


Avoiding the inevitable

by SigiRay



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Family, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29843895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SigiRay/pseuds/SigiRay
Summary: She was halfway towards the editor when their gazes locked. It felt like she had been struck by a bolt of lightning, blazing her entire body, inside and out, in a scorching wildfire.Her mind shut down entirely, bewitched by the bedeviling deity. All the brunette could do was feel, and live the sensations that were taking over her body and soul.Miranda’s features tempestuously darkened as her inflamed arctic-turned-ocean blue gaze seemed to ensnare the younger woman’s enraptured soul, seizing it with her all-consuming own in a transcendental astriction.The electrifying charged energy between them sparked and crackled, causing a prickling sensation to graze over her heated skin.The palpable tension overwhelmed the brunette’s entire being but despite that, felt her body mindlessly moving forward, as if a magnetic force was pulling her in.
Relationships: Miranda Priestly & Andrea Sachs, Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Comments: 83
Kudos: 238





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All the characters and places you recognize are the property of Lauren Weisberger and 20th-Century Fox. I'm making no money from this project. Do not copy to another site.
> 
> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that Kudos-button!
> 
> It's slow working progress. I have the general story all mapped out in my head. I've set myself up in posting at least one, maybe two chapters a week. It's going to be quite a long story so please bear with me and thank you for your patience.

Darkening grey clouds possessed the skies above the densely crowded, faced-paced, and ever-evolving, bustling city of New York. The icy sharpness of the vigorous gusts of wind blowing through the streets of the Big Apple made the hustling habitants of the city bury their hands deep into their pockets or clutch at the collars of their coats, trying desperately but in vain to shield themselves from the biting cold. Those who stood waiting at bus stops, subway- or metro stations, or impatiently calling out to hail a cab, cursed under their breaths as they all blamed the weather forecast for its inaccuracy and unreliable predictions. It was supposed to be a sun-filled day, a cold one nevertheless, but still a sunny one at that. People had been looking forward to probably one of the last brightly lit days of the year. With summer seemingly long past and gloomy and rainy autumn turning into a harsh and bitter winter, days where the sun graced the New Yorkers with its warming rays, were few and far between. The already bad weather threatens mockingly with eerily static and dark energy, waiting with sinister patience for the worst of it to let burst from the skies. The weatherly turn of the tides collectively turned the people into a bad-tempered and sulking mood. It was as if the atmosphere itself was conveying that today would not be a good day, to whom it might’ve concerned, that would be a matter of the universe playing its course. 

In one small, shabby apartment in Lower Manhattan, well, more likely to be called a studio rather than an apartment, the gloomy weather went by particularly unnoticed by its occupant. It wasn’t in Andrea Sachs’ nature to dwell on such trivial things as bad weather. Especially when another day filled with strenuous tasks were imminent to be bestowed upon her the moment her mercurial and ever-demanding boss would step through the metal elevator doors, in all her grandiose, haute-couture glory onto the seventeenth floor of the Elias-Clark building. 

The brunette finished applying the last touches of her make-up in front of the bathroom mirror and stared intently back at her reflection. Conjuring up every bit of self-confidence and determination she could muster to prepare herself for yet another day, working as the second assistant to the most exacting editor in chief in the history of the publishing industry. The young assistant was set out to prove to her boss that she would and could handle and achieve everything that was demanded of her, no matter how nonsensical or impossible some of the tasks she’d be given were. It did not matter to her, all that mattered was that she would conquer from the most frivolous errands to the most essentially crucial assignments her boss expected of her to complete. 

It thrilled the brunette to no end to be able to face down the silver-haired fashion matriarch at the end of the day with a sense of triumphant accomplishment. Even if she’d never received any form of gratitude or any sign of respect for her efforts. No, the only thing she could do was to reluctantly accept that all she would ever receive was being deridingly stared down by the arctic blue gaze of Miranda Priestly, otherwise known as the Devil in Prada. 

_ Oh, how wickedly accurate that description fitted the fashion maven _ , the brunette mused. 

Ever since the unfortunate trip to Paris fashion week nearly two months before, the silver-haired woman has been worse than ever imagined possible. Even before Paris, the older woman was an absolute disastrous hell to work for, but now she held a vindictive grudge against the young brunette. It was no longer simply working in hell but in an ice-cold, skin biting, soul-sucking and crushing hell of La Priestly’s own making, exclusively created just for the young assistant. 

Every day working as Miranda Priestly’s assistant, the young woman arrived home late in the evening, after delivering the Book, the mock-up of _ Runway _ ’s magazine to the Devil’s lair, left her exhausted by her back-breaking efforts that went unnoticed, humiliated by the wittingly scathing tongue of her boss, frustrated by the fact that none of her endeavors seemed to be gaining her any small amount of respect or recognition in those arctic blue eyes. 

For the first couple of weeks, the brunette understood her boss’ diabolical demeanor towards her after their return from Paris. After all, she  _ did  _ abandon the silver-haired editor high and dry on the front steps of the Petit Palais swarmed by paparazzi on one of the most important and busiest days of the year for the fashion icon in a fit of self-preservation and feeling sympathetically betrayed for her good friend, Nigel Kipling. It only took the crossing of a street and impulsively throwing her business phone into the fountain on the Place de la Concorde for the young assistant to realize that her reaction was rather childish and that she consequently was making an irrational and foolish mistake. 

The brunette spent that afternoon thinking of all the ways she could apologize to her silver-haired boss but figured out by nightfall that all she could really do was simply to face the Devil and prepare herself to do the most ignominious groveling she’d ever have to do in her entire life. In the hope to be forgiven as not to have to carry the guilt of leaving around and in a selfish attempt to save her future career. 

Knocking on the door of the hotel’s presidential suite, she did exactly that, fully expecting that her attempt at forgiveness would inevitably be in vain. That she would no doubt be verbally eviscerated to a pile of melting shattered pieces of ice, to have been banned from any hopes in finding a career in the publishing industry on the east coast, hell, even on the entire continent. 

So, it came as an utterly unpredictable shock that left her in a state of utmost bewilderment, after her initial groveling had been done, that the silver-haired woman simply began ranting of instructions for her to do for the following day of Paris fashion week. Feeling dumbfounded, perplexed, and confused as to why her boss was so easily giving her another chance, she strolled back to her own hotel room and hadn’t questioned it any further. After all, you never dare question Miranda Priestly on anything. Not if you’re eager to be buried six feet under in the backyard of the Devil’s lair, that is. 

After that day, life went on for the young assistant to the most influential person in the fashion industry. With the only exception that now, the fashion maven seemed to be keenly intent on proving that the brunette will undoubtedly fail and disappoint as she had done once before. To drive the point home that she was not up for the challenge, that she wasn’t strong-willed, ambitious, and determined enough to finish up her tenure as Miranda Priestly’s assistant, so that afterward she could basically have any job she wanted. It was rather common knowledge that after working for a year or two for Miranda, that it meant that you haven’t only got one, but two feet into the door of whichever job you wished to pursue after completing your tenure as the Devil’s assistant. It is a job a million girls would kill for after all. 

Andrea Sachs wasn’t anything if not ambitious. The brunette dreamed big and had set herself out to achieve the impossible, set on making a name for herself, to be the best she could ever possibly be, and to make a difference in the world by using her published words as her weapon in life. 

Just as Miranda had set out to prove that she would inevitably fail on her road to success, Andrea had set out to prove that she was determinately intending to climb the ladder of success exactly like Miranda had done and accomplished, but with the exception of selling her soul to the devil, or becoming one like Miranda has done. The brunette vowed to herself that she won’t reduce herself by the means of stabbing friends in the back. She understood that unavoidably difficult decisions and sacrifices will have to be made, but was set out to show the Devil herself that you did not have to be a condescending bitch to those around you to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	2. Chapter 2

Hanging up her own coat in the closet in the outer office of Runway, the assistant hurried back towards the elevator, reaching it just in time with her usual face-splitting smile as the metal doors open and the silver-haired editor in chief of Runway magazine walked through them with her stately stiletto powerwalk, pushing the Book into the brunette’s arms and began ranting off the days’ instructions as Andy meticulously writes them down on her notepad, always following two steps behind the older woman. As Miranda flung her coat and bag on Andrea’s desk, the assistant in question gathered the center of the sun hot Starbucks coffee cup off her desk just in time before it tumbled onto the marble floor, carelessly spilling its contents all over her desk. The brunette hurried along into the inner office, placing the coffee on the glass desk, and continues writing down the rest of her errands. Before Miranda could dismiss her in her usual disinterested and conceited way, Andy spoke up trying not to look as smug and sound as haughty as she feels. 

“The Calvin Klein samples have already been delivered to Nigel whose sifting through them as we speak and will bring those you might deem acceptable once he’s done with them. The models for the Bethesda shoot have arrived at the airport right on schedule and I should be receiving an update any minute now that they’ve arrived at their destination.” Just then Andy’s cellphone pinged, scanning the contents of the text with laser-like speed. “I can confirm that the models have arrived at the location and are being prepped as we speak to begin the shoot. Donatella has confirmed tomorrows’ lunch meeting. The budget reports you’ve asked for shall be here within the hour. I’ve already sent flowers to Donna Karen to congratulate her on the birth of her grandchild and I’ll bring up the run-through by an hour since you canceled lunch with Irv which means you can leave the office in time to be home for dinner and Patricks’ already holding on line one.” Andrea looks up to meet Miranda’s arctic eyes then, trying but failing to keep the challenge out of her tone. “Is there anything else I can do for you Miranda?” 

Seated behind her desk, Miranda took off her reading glasses and ran the end of one of its arms across her bottom lip as she perused her assistant from top to bottom and then up again. Staring back into the hazel eyes of her second assistant she spoke softly, sarcasm dripping from her tone. 

“You’ve become quite the conceited, cheeky lap dog, haven’t you, Andréa?” 

Andy frowned in indignation. “I-” 

“No, no. That wasn’t a question. Merely stating the obvious.” 

Andy knew better than to respond, knowing it was foolish and unwise to challenge the editor but wanting to show that she was no longer that easily cowered or affected by the cruel remarks, she kept her gaze locked with narrowing arctic blues. 

As Andy continued to stare in the scrutinizing gaze of her boss for the longest time to date, she unconsciously started to sink into the cold blue depth. The hypnotizing pattern of the heavy downpour against floor-to-ceiling windows drowned out the sound of heartbeat in her ears. Her skin started to tingle as if an electrical current seemed to vibrate in the space between the two women. When the hair on her arms and the back of her neck started to rise, the loud sound of booming thunder permeated her senses, jolting the young assistant out of her stupor. Blinking several times, she focused back on the editor to see a look on her face that had never been there before, but in less than a second, the indecipherable look was schooled back into one of indifference as if it were never there, to begin with. 

“That’s all.” The editor said, putting her glasses back on and looking down at the papers spread out on her desk. 

Andy sat behind her desk feeling puzzled. Over time and meticulous effort, she’d become well versed in the instruction manual that is Miranda Priestly. She can efficiently read every mood and thought by a mere slight movement in the older woman’s facial features or by a subtle change in the tone of her always controlled soft voice. It left her quite unnerved to have been glared at with such a fierce, cold, and penetrating gaze and for the first time in a long time, not exactly understanding what it meant other than the basic scrutinization. However anxious Andy felt right now about the strange ordeal, she felt rather proud she hadn’t cowered and backed down. It would not have done to challenge a predator right in the eye to only turn your vulnerable back on it and consequently becoming its prey. She no longer was the naïve, fresh out of college, ignorant school girl when she first started her tenure at Runway nearly a year ago. She had matured and grown confident in herself and in her abilities to perform. Ironically, Andy realized that it was mostly thanks to Miranda that she had grown so much as an independent and capable person 

_ Completely ironic, indeed _ . She mused before focusing back on her work. 

*** 

Her strange but relatively good start of a morning rapidly deteriorated to one of the worse days she’s had so far. It seemed like the gloomy weather had the whole staff of Runway failing to meet Miranda’s wishes, or had problems and complications occurring around every corner, which they all left to the second assistant to remedy or rectify. Naturally, the editor was left in an infernal mood because of all that went wrong, and of course, Andy was the main target to take the brunt of her malicious mood. And oh boy, the silver-haired woman was in a nefariously good form today, much to Andy’s chagrin. Never once missing a perfectly timed beat, the editor was ready to strike with her softest but deadliest tone of voice, like a snake inconspicuously hiding in the bushes ready to venomously strike at oblivious passing prey. 

By late afternoon, Andy was on the verge of tearing her hair out in frustration or coming dangerously close to throttling the older woman with her own hands in front of the entire staff of Runway. Not caring that she would be taken away by the men in white coats. 

No matter that the assistant was able to solve every hindrance thrown her way, nothing that she did seemed to fall within the good graces of the editor. Rectifying wrongs and continuing to accomplish every single task to the point of perfection, never with delay, sometimes even ahead of time, and yet nothing seemed to satisfy her meticulous boss. Slowly but surely, she felt the restraints on her temper cracking and wasn’t sure how much more she could take without giving in to the temptation of lashing out. 

Having closed her eyes and taking deep, calming breaths to reign in her temper after the latest scathing remark from her boss just a couple minutes before. The haughty, conceited voice of the Brit, Emily Charlton, Miranda’s first assistant reached her ears from the other side of the outer office. 

“You finally about to have your mental breakdown now, Ahn-dray-yah? Should I call the loony bin to see if they have an opening, or have you consumed too many carbs during lunch that you’re regretting the extra pounds you no doubt must be feeling settling on those hips by now?” 

Andy’s amber-brown eyes blazed open, instantly locking on green ones behind the other desk. If looks could kill, the redhead would’ve been buried six feet under by the murderous intensity in the brunette’s gaze. 

Andy retorted, grounding out through clenched teeth. “For fuck’s sake, Emily! Why don’t you for once in your miserable, condescending life just shut the fuck up? Or I’ll shove that stick that seems to be permanently stuck in your scrawny ass so far up into your esophagus that you won’t be able to swallow your daily portion of stinking cheese cubes down your throat!” 

The red-haired Brit seemed taken aback, not having expected for the brunette to retort back, if her mouth opening and closing is anything to go by. But on closer inspection, the Brit’s shocked gaze wasn’t directed at her but at something behind her. The brunette didn’t have to think twice about who could be standing behind her at the entrance of the outer office if the scared look of the red-head is anything to go by. Andy closed her eyes once again, taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and turning her desk chair to face La Priestly. Who’s looking down at her, eyes narrow and lips pursed. Andy knows this look. It has ended many careers and has sent grown men crying nearly wetting themselves back into their mothers’ arms. Andy doesn’t know what to say, thinking she should apologize for her outburst, but truthfully doesn’t want to. Why should everyone else get the privilege to tear someone down within the walls of Runway and not her? Luckily it seems, she doesn’t have to say anything at all. 

“Coffee.” 

That was all the editor said and continued on her path towards her own office. Andy lets out a sigh of relief and hurries towards the elevator. Thankful for the much-needed little reprieve the coffee run provides her. Once she exits the Elias-Cark lobby, she briefly entertains the thought once of Miranda purposely doing her a favor to have a couple of minutes to herself to cool down and gather her wits, so she’ll be able to continue working without biting someone else’s head off for the remainder of the day. She snorts at herself for thinking such an inconceivable and ridiculous thought as she enters the Starbucks across the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	3. Chapter 3

The Book arrived earlier than expected later that evening, which Andy was more than grateful for since today had been particularly vexing. She couldn’t wait to go home, crash down on her old and tattered couch with a glass of red while watching reruns on tv. 

Letting herself into the townhouse, she placed the Book on the table with the flowers and hung the dry-cleaning in the closed next to it. As she turned around and headed back for the front door, she heard a sound that made her stop in her tracks, turned back around, and looked up at the winding staircase. 

“Pssst.” Floated down once again from the second-floor landing. The brunette spotted one of the twins sitting behind the railings, knees up to her chest and looking down at Andy hesitantly. 

“Cassidy?” Andy whispered back up. 

After the Harry Potter incident, the twins seemed to have taken a liking to her, occasionally waiting for her to drop off the Book. The brunette no longer had trouble separating the twins any longer, but the child was sitting in the dark, two stories up so she wasn’t certain. Somehow, she felt as if on instinct that it was the youngest of the twin terrors. The hesitant look faded away and a soft but shy smile spread across the face of the red-haired young girl. The child got up and started to silently descend the stairs until she arrived on the bottom step and took a seat on it, looking down at her little hands clasped on her lap. Andy silently walked over and hunched down in front of the little girl. 

“What’s up kiddo? Everything alright?” The brunette inquired softly. Cassidy frowned for a moment, looking so much like a younger version of her mother before shaking her head in the negative. 

“Hey, look at me, Cass.” Andy cooed softly. When the little girl met her gaze, Andy smiled her softest smile and tried to convey as much warmth as possible through her amber eyes. 

“I want you to know that you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but if you do want to, I want you to know that I’ll gladly listen to whatever it is you need to get off your chest, ok? I promise that I won’t tell another soul if you don’t want me to.” 

The little girl kept looking at her, observantly scanning the brunette’s face, contemplating the words, and searching her eyes as if trying to find some sort of deceit in them. Then she let out a seemingly much-needed heavy sigh and nodded her head, looking back down at her lap. Andy gave a small nod of her own and went to sit down next to the girl. The brunette knew that she would be in so much trouble if Miranda were to appear and find her assistant sitting on her stairs, conversing with one of her children past bedtime. But the assistant couldn’t turn her back on the little girl, seeing she was in some sort of turmoil and for some inexplicable reason, reached out to her. 

“I, I just- …. I had a bad day.” The little girl began, her voice hoarse as if she had been crying before. The brunette kept silent, knowing Cassidy needed to get it out on her own time. “Just some stupid stuff at school that’s been going on for a while but, but that’s, y’know not really- …" The girl trailed off, an unsure look on her face. 

“That stupid stuff at school is not what’s really got you so upset?” The brunette finished to which the little red-head nodded. 

“It’s mom. She just- …. I don’t know.” She let out another heavy sigh. “I tried to talk to her today after dinner but she just doesn’t care. I tried to get her attention but she just kept working on her laptop. Humming that way she does when she pretends she’s listening but really isn’t. I got so mad and stormed out of her study but she didn’t follow me or anything. She didn’t even try to talk about it after she tucked me in and I just feel so-” Her voice cracked and she bit her lip, looking away as if not wanting Andy to see the tears welling up in her blue eyes. 

“Hey, c’mon kiddo.” Andy whispered and put her arm around the little shoulder, pulling the child closer to her. “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me if you feel like crying. Honestly, I won’t judge you. Crying is completely normal. You must know better than anyone else how your mother gets when it involves her work. She works so very hard, most people don’t even realize how hard, or how much effort that’s required of her. Or how difficult her job really is. I know, since I’m her assistant. That’s why I know that she easily gets consumed by it. It's because of this super cool trait of hers, y’know. Almost like a superpower.” 

At that, the little girl looked up at her questioningly but intrigued. “What super cool trait?” 

“She’s got this laser-focus, like x-ray vision. It makes her so great at what she does. When she focuses on something it’s all-encompassing, she sees everything and even more than most people. Every single minuscule detail, her mind running miles an hour that even the fastest runner on the planet can’t hope to catch up to. I know you don’t see it yet, but she’s really the best at what she does. No one can do what she does and she knows it. Makes her a little cocky if you ask me.” The brunette winked mischievously, causing the little girl to giggle. “Don’t tell your mom I said that. Anyway, your mom loves her job that’s why she’s the best, and to stay the best she has to work extra hard. But Cass, listen here. Just because your mom loves her job, does absolutely not mean that she loves you or your sister any less. You’ll always, always be the most important thing to her, even when it doesn’t seem like it at times. You mustn’t doubt that kid, ever. She just gets carried away in her work that’s all.” 

They fell in companionable silence as the little red-head seemed to contemplate Andy’s monologue. “Yeah, I know. I just wish she would point that laser-focus on me sometimes.” 

“Well, why don’t you just tell her that then? I’m sure that if you ask her and I mean really ask her, not just waiting around for her to give you her attention, she’d be all ears to what you have to say.” 

“I guess, she’s just so distant sometimes. I don’t really know how to reach her.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean by that, kiddo. Once again, don’t tell her I said this but she’s pretty stubborn. It’s hard to get through to her, especially in the workplace. She’s distanced herself so much from everyone that you don’t really know how to approach her or even if you should. Mostly, everyone is simply too scared of her. So, no one really tries. I just think it’s been so long since anyone has tried to really interact with her that she’s forgotten how to connect with people. She’s just the big scary boss and everyone else are her minions. That’s how it’s been for so long that that’s just simply the world she lives in.” 

“But not you though.” 

“What, not me?” 

“You’re not scared of her right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be sitting here talking to me.” 

“Mhm, I guess I’m not really scared of her, no. But she really intimidates me that it’s sort of terrifying. She’s just this bigger-than-life person you know?” 

“Why don’t you interact with her then? If no one else does it.” 

“I do interact with her, every day.” 

“No, I mean like what you’ve said. Connect with her, since everyone else is too afraid.” 

“Oh, well. Even if I were to try, I’m sure it won’t be appreciated coming from me.” 

“Why not?” 

“Simply put, and excuse my language, but she hates my guts. I think she’d rather wear sneakers and a hoody to work than have an actual conversation with me.” 

The little girl seemed to deflate a little. “That’ll never happen, she doesn’t even wear sneakers at home.” 

“Exactly.” 

“That’s too bad though.” 

“Why’s that, kiddo?” 

“Because I like you. You talk ‘real’ to me. Not interact like I’m some stupid little kid. So now we’re connecting. If only mom could see it like that or understand how easy it could be.” 

“Exactly, Cassidy. So, now you try connecting with your mom as we’ve just done. You just said it yourself how easy it could be. I’m sure she’ll learn a thing or two from you by the way you’ve opened yourself up to me tonight. And by the way, I like you too, kid.” 

Cassidy perked up a bit. “You really think so? That she could learn from me?” 

“Oh, I know so. Because you’ve been really brave tonight, Cass. It’s not always easy to talk about your feelings, but it’s important that you do and you’ve done that really well tonight. I just hope that I was of any sort of help to you?” 

“Yeah, you have been, Andy.” The little red-head leaned over and gave her a hug which the brunette responded to in kind, chuckling lightly. 

“Alright then, kiddo. I’m glad. Now it’s time for you to skedaddle back to your room and go to sleep. It’s already pretty late and if your mom finds out I’ve been holding you up, I’m sure she’ll really start breathing fire and burn me to a crisp.” Andy said standing with a grin, pulling the girl up with her on her feet and gently pushing her up the stairs. The girl complied giggling, but turned around and whispered a shy. “Thank you, Andy.” Before continuing her ascend up the stairs. 

Andy waited at the bottom of the stairs until she heard the faint click of a door closing before turning around and heading for the front door once more. With her hand on the doorknob, she stopped before opening the door and reluctantly glanced back over her shoulder down the hallway, feeling the strange sensation as if someone were watching her. When she saw nothing but darkness, she sent a quick ‘thank you’ prayer out to any deity that might exist and turned back around. Shaking her head, she told herself that she’s imagining things and promptly left the townhouse, finally starting her journey back home. 

*** 

The next day at work, Andy unsurprisingly discovered the silver-haired woman in yet another particularly vicious and rancorous mood. They were in the middle of a run-through with Andy writing down notes, wincing every now and then as the rest of the quivering staff was being verbally eviscerated by the editor’s sharp tongue. 

“Enlighten me,” Miranda spoke softly, voice dripping with acrimony. “In what, utterly ridiculous world do all of you imbeciles think that what you have presented to me, I would deem acceptable?” Miranda let out a tormented sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers as if trying to ward off an oncoming headache. “Do you honestly think that I have the time for this nonsense? That you would even dare bring this complete disaster into my office and to my attention is even beyond my comprehension. All these choices have done so far are burn my retinas and have given me a headache that not even a whole bottle of Tylenol could remedy for me. If the incompetence and abysmal -, I don’t even have a word for what you have brought to me, is not gone from my office in the next five seconds. Then don’t even bother ever coming back. That’s all.” 

Everyone hurried out of the office in lighting speed, clumsily dragging the clothing racks in tow. Andy went to her desk, opened up a drawer, and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol. Garnering up the courage in an attempt to fortitude herself, and without foolishly thinking better of it, she strode back into the inner office to face her mercurial boss again. The brunette didn’t dare to look at Miranda just yet but nevertheless felt the need to try and be of any help. She placed a chilled glass of Pellegrino on a coaster on the glass desk and placed two pills next to it. Hoping it would help with Miranda’s headache that had her no doubt be even more acrimonious than usual. Taking two steps back and praying to any kind of deity around that she would live to see another day, she ignored the  _ ‘never ask Miranda a question rule’ _ and foolhardy suggested. 

“Would you like me to cancel your meeting with Mr. Ravitz due in fifteen minutes? I’m pretty sure that if I call Gaultier’s people now, they should be more than ready for you within the hour, meaning we can leave the office in fifteen, avoiding your meeting with Irv.” 

The Editor’s head snapped up, narrowing blue eyes locking with anxious hazel ones. “Well, go ahead why don’t you, Andréa? It seems like you already know everything about me, do you not? Since you seem to be so very well-versed with the workings of my mind, why even ask me what I would like and not just do it already.” Her voice dripping with sarcasm, seemingly angrier than a moment before, if such a thing was even possible. 

Andy blinked, not really knowing what she should do now, or how to respond, or even if she should. Deciding it was best to apologize, even though knowing it only bored or irritated the older woman, the young assistant tried anyway. 

“Uhm, I’m sorry, Miranda. I shouldn’t have assumed -” 

“But it seems like you just can’t help yourself. Or am I wrong, Andréa?” Miranda queried menacingly. 

“Well, no, but... It is my job to assume, is it not? To think ahead and figure out what you might want or need. To help in any way I can to make your life-, I mean, your job just a little easier.” 

Miranda noticeably clenched her jaw and her nostrils flared, paired together with the narrowed eyes and pursed lips, Andy knew that she had just dug her own grave. 

“Indeed Andréa.” Miranda said so low, it was barely audible. Andy had to practically lean in to hear what she was saying. Which was yet another sign of her malice. “It is your job to make my  _ job  _ easier. Not my  _ life _ . My life is my own, which you are irrevocably no part of. You are simply an unworthy assistant, here to do my bidding and fetch when I need fetching like the good little lap dog that you are. I do not want nor need your aggravating meddling into my personal affairs in what you might assume to think is for my benefit. Is your brain really that deficient that you are not able to comprehend that I simply need you to do _ your job _ ?” 

Andy grimaced, remembering the night in Paris where she’d accidentally stumbled upon a never-before-seen Miranda Priestly, shed of all her glorious Dragon Lady armor. Merely clothed in a grey bathrobe, curled up in the corner of a couch, face void of all make-up, mussed-up hair, shoulders slumped in defeat, red-rimmed lost eyes, and hollow-voiced. Discovering her resolutely unwavering boss like that, had broken something deep inside of Andy. It had been an unbearable, heart-breaking sight to watch, and all she wanted to do in that moment was to console the older woman. The brunette had tried to reach out to the woman that hid underneath the Devil’s façade. But of course, her sympathetic compassion, asking if there was anything she could do for the silver-haired woman, had been ill-received. Which had led to her being promptly dismissed with the biting remark to do:  _ ‘Your job.’  _

Focusing back on the present moment, the assistant tried to figure out why her boss was in such a cantankerous mood, to begin with. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in Andy’s mind and she realized why Miranda was so infuriated by her, maybe even explaining why she’d been in such a hellish mood all day, to begin with. 

The voice inside her head screamed at her to stay silent and not to anger the Devil any more than she had already done. But the thunderous beating in her chest overpowered the sensible thoughts and convinced her heart to speak up for her unadulterated soul. 

“Oh, I see. This is about last night, isn’t it? About Cassidy? Well, if it is about that, then I won’t apologize for my so-called aggravating meddling into your personal affairs, Miranda.” Andy quipped. 

“Excuse me? How dare y-” Miranda sneered, her tone incredulous but Andy cut her off. 

“I understand that you don’t want me to intrude in your personal life, Miranda. I know how much you value your privacy for obvious reasons.” Andy took a deep breath and forced herself to continue looking into her boss’ eyes. “However, if it makes you feel any better  then I do feel sorry for the fact that me overstepping some of your boundaries has made you feel uncomfortable. But I do  _ not  _ apologize for what I have done. I would never brush off Cassidy or Caroline or any child for that matter, in a moment where they needed some form of comfort that I could provide. I’m  _ not  _ sorry for taking the time to sit down with her and listen to whatever she needed to get off her chest.  _ That  _ had nothing to do with any aspect of  _ my job _ . Even if coincidentally the subject we’ve discussed was about you. It still really wasn’t about you, Miranda. That was simply me, trying to comfort a little girl that needed someone to listen to.” 

“So, you’re saying that I’m incapable of comforting and listening to my own daughter?” Miranda’s soft voice rose slightly as she stood up from her desk chair, placed her fingertips on the top of her desk, and leaned forward. Looking very similar to a predator about to strike. 

“What? No! That’s not what I meant at all, Miranda. Look, I’m not judging you, in any way. If that’s what you’re concerned about - “Andy faltered when Miranda scoffed. 

“Concerned-” 

“I could never judge you. I know how hard you need to work because of the demands that come with the job. I know that it’s hard to balance life and work, I know that better than anyone. It’s not easy. It’s damn near impossible, yet you still manage and that should be envied, not judged. So, no. I don’t think you're incapable of doing anything, Miranda. I’m just saying that I was happy to help. If it is helping you, Cass, or Care, or even the homeless guy around the corner of my apartment. If I am able, I will do it. That’s all there is to it. So, fire me if you must but I won’t apologize.” Andy took a deep, steadying breath, inwardly cursing at herself for rambling on like an idiot and fearing she might’ve just gotten herself fired and committed career-suicide for speaking against and interrupting Miranda. Then she figured that if this were to be the end, she might as well go down believing in her choices and stood up straight, stuck her chin out, and gazed back into arctic blue eyes. 

Several moments passed with the two women locked in a tense, heated gaze when all of a sudden, the tightness in Miranda’s features softened slightly but remained indifferent. The change would have been barely noticeable to anyone else, but Any was not just anyone. The editor continued looking at Andy, standing so motionless she could have almost been mistaken for a beautiful Greek statue. The brunette had no idea what the older woman might be thinking and the longer they stared at each other the more anxious Andy felt. Cold sweat was trickling down her spine and she started to feel unnerved but tried her very best not to show it. 

Then in the blink of an eye, Miranda straightened up, looked Andy up and down once more, and dismissively waved her hands. 

“That’s all.” Miranda said, her voice barely audible. The assistant turned around in an instant, relief washing over her as she went to sit down behind her own desk. She looked at her computer screen but not really seeing anything as she focused on her breathing, trying to settle her disbelief that she was somehow still alive. 

*** 

Later that evening after getting home from delivering the Book, lying in bed, Andy contemplated what had transpired between Miranda and herself. She had spoken against her boss, not about professional but  _ personal  _ matters. Her boss, who seemed to hate her with a burning passion and who wouldn’t think twice about firing someone for the most absurd little mistake if she felt like it. The brunette had been adamant that her career had come to end after defending herself for why she’d decided to go against the rules and talk with one of her children. Or at the very least had expected another viciously verbal lashing from the editor and yet neither had unfathomably happened. The young woman didn’t know what to make of it? It left her confused to no end, groaning in frustration into her pillow. 

For the past several months before and especially after Paris, she had tried extraordinarily hard to not slip-up or make a mistake as to not give Miranda a reason to fire her, consequently proving that the young assistant would inevitably fail in her pursuit of success. But now that she did even worse than a slip-up or mistake, the editor had done absolutely nothing about it. Try as she might, the young assistant could not figure out her mystifying, mercurial boss. Professionally, she knew it all, down to the slightest change in facial features, body language, and tone of voice. However, personally, the silver-haired woman remained an enigma. 

But now that she thought about it, why was she trying to figure out her boss on a personal level? It was definitely not her place to think any further than the boundaries of work. Miranda had made that adamantly clear today. Yet, here she was wondering and pondering, trying to figure out who Miranda truly was behind the façade. Because the young woman knew that it was exactly that. The woman Miranda portrayed at work was only a mere façade, a mask and armor she put on to shield herself from the outside world. She knew that there was more to Miranda Priestly than the one she got to see at Runway. The older woman was a mother of two, twice-divorced, a woman with some serious baggage, someone who had ferociously fought her way up the ladder of success from absolutely nothing, and who now stood at the very top of the world. With all that and more, she still made it seem effortless to carry the world on her shoulders. To say that Andy couldn’t help but wonder was a serious  understatement .

Consumed by the thoughts of the silver-haired woman, Andy started growing annoyingly frustrated that her sleep remained elusive because of it. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the arctic blue, piercing gaze of the woman in question. Too tired as to ponder why she couldn’t keep the older woman out of her mind’s eye, she decided to give her best friend a call the next morning. 

_ Thank God for Saturday morning sleep-ins! _ The young woman mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	4. Chapter 4

Walking into their favorite Midtown deli, Andy spotted Doug sitting at their usual booth in the corner. She bent down to give him their customary kiss on the cheek before sitting down in her seat. The pair ordered their usual, a pastrami sandwich for Doug, and a chicken mozzarella with sun-dried tomatoes for the brunette. While they ate, Doug was going on and on about some guy that had recently started at the accounting firm where he worked. If Andy was being honest, she didn’t hear a single word he said, neither had she taken more than a few bites of her sandwich, which in its own was a highly unusual mannerism for the young woman. She simply toyed with a napkin next to her plate while her other hand supported her chin in its palm. Unaware that Doug had fallen silent for several minutes, he watched Andy closely, waiting for his best friend to return to the land of the living. When that didn’t seem to happen anytime soon on its own accord, he opted to take the matter into his own hands. 

“So, what’s got you moping around like some sad little gremlin?” Doug asked around a mouth full of the last bite of his pastrami sandwich. When no answer seemed to be forthcoming, he tried a different tactic to get his friend out of her shell. Sighing rather dramatically, he raised his voice a little to make sure the brunette would hear him. 

“I don’t even know why I bothered asking. I know this is about  _ Miranda _ .” 

Andy’s head snapped up, looking at him as if he suddenly had grown another head. 

_ Finally, that did the trick. _ He thought to himself, chuckling lightly. 

“So, what did you do this time to piss off a certain silver-haired fashion matriarch?” The look on his friend’s face nearly made him double over in laughter, nearly. He knew it wouldn’t go over well with the brunette. 

“How did y-” Andy spoke up, incredulity written all over her face but Doug didn’t need her to finish that sentence. 

_ This has gone on for far too long. _ He ruminated to himself. 

“Because Andy, every time for the last couple of months when we’ve gotten together, Miranda has been almost the only thing you’ve talked about. It’s always been Miranda this, and Miranda that. Did you not hear yourself? You’re always complaining about how much of a bitch she is to you and you keep asking me why she hates your guts like you expect me to know all the answers, which you know I don’t but you keep on asking anyway.” He paused for a moment, giving Andy the time to let the truth of the matter sink in. “So, why is that, Andy? Why do you care so much about what she might think of you?” 

“I don’t know, Doug.” She let out an aggravated sigh. “Honestly, I don’t know anything anymore. For some reason, I just can’t get the woman out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about her and it’s frustrating me to no end. She’s just so God damned infuriating!” She let out a tormented sigh. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I know I’m good, no, I’m fucking great at my job and I know she knows it too. Yet, she keeps on treating me like shit. Like I’m some sort of abhorrent peasant. Every day for the past two months she’s been squishing me under her heels for no apparent reason and it’s starting to drive me nuts. Even when I’ve managed to make sure her day has run smooth and into perfection, she looks at me with such disdain. I honestly have no idea why she hasn’t fired me yet if she hates it so much to look at me. And then, when I finally do something that gives her a valid reason to ban me from New York she-” 

“What? What did she do?” Doug encouraged her to continue, secretly enjoying watching his best friend in such a flustered state. 

“She does absolutely nothing?! I spoke against her.  _ Against  _ the unforgiving fucking Devil in heels. I told her I  _ won’t  _ apologize for something I did she clearly disapproved of. I even  _ interrupted  _ her for God’s sake! And I swear she looked about on the verge to throw me out the window. I’d given her the perfect opportunity to verbally grind be into dust and  _ then _ , all of a sudden, she decides to do nothing about it? I mean, what’s up with that? It doesn’t make any sense.” Groaning, she repeated. “She doesn’t make any sense.” 

Intrigued, elbows resting on the table between them, he leaned closer and whispered almost as if in secrecy. “So, what did you do to piss off her royal highness?” 

Crossing her arms over her chest, the brunette said indignantly. “Be serious, Doug. This isn’t funny.”

Trying with all his mighty effort to keep his face as serious as he could, he tried again. “I know this isn’t funny, Andy. So, what did you do?” 

Looking away, Andy grumbled. “I spoke to one of her daughters.” 

Doug’s face contorted in confusion. “What? That’s it?” -  _ Well, that was rather anti-climactic. _ He mused to himself before continuing. “What’s so wrong about that?” 

“So, we’re not supposed to, Doug! It’s like way up there with the ‘no touching’ and ‘not asking questions’ rule, only worse. But I-… Well, I’ve been, y’know, sort of talking to the twins for a while now without her knowledge, of course. I guess we’ve sort of bonded a little.” 

“You’ve bonded with the Devil’s spawn?! You’re right, this is weird.” Now it was Doug’s turn to look at her as if she’d grown another head. 

“Don’t call them that! They’re good kids. Sure, they were a couple of mean pranksters in the beginning, but once you get to know them, they’re actually really sweet.” Andy defended. 

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Just didn’t see that one coming, is all. So, what happened?” 

“Well, Cassidy called out to me the other night when I dropped off the Book and she told me about something that’s been bothering her. Which was sort of a new development. We’ve only ever talked about school, friends, books, and random stuff before, but that night we talked about Miranda. I didn’t realize that Miranda was listening in on our conversation and evidently, she was in an impossible mood the next day. I didn’t know why she was so mad at first, but figured it out it was because of what I said to Cassidy, and then well, y’know, that’s when I confronted her about it.” 

“So, the two of you budded heads but she didn’t lash out at you afterward?” 

Andy shook her head in response. 

“Why do you make it sound like that’s a bad thing?” 

“Because it was so unlike her, Doug. C’mon, you know how she is, what they say about her. She’s an unforgiving bitch. She holds a grudge against someone if they so much as get her coffee order wrong.” 

Suppressing an eye roll at his friend’s dramatics, he ventured further. “Right, so, what did you say to the kid that got Miranda so upset? About how she’s been treating you?” 

“No, no, nothing like that. She just missed her mom’s attention and felt a little insecure, I guess. I just told her that her mom loves her no matter what and tried to make her understand that Miranda’s job is incredibly demanding and stuff. She took it pretty well and we ended on a high note.” 

“So, you said nothing bad about Miranda that she overheard?” 

“No, on the contrary. I even praised her, talked her up like she’s some kind of superhero, for God’s sake, and I meant every word of it. I don’t want her daughter to think anything less of her. God knows how difficult her life already is with Runway, the divorce, and the press and all that. She doesn’t need her daughter to misunderstand her as well.” 

“That’s pretty big of you, Andy. Considering how she’s been treating you.” 

“Yeah, well.” Clearing her throat, she continued to vent. “So, I don’t get why Miranda was so mad in the first place, other than me talking to her kid. But that shouldn’t have been reason enough for her to be so angry the following day.” 

Doug pondered the situation for a moment, but it didn’t take him long to figure out what’s been really at play between the two women. 

_ My God, for all her smarts, she can really be so dense at times. _ He thought to himself. 

“Hmm, did you ever stop to think that she wasn’t necessarily angry at you, babe?” 

Andy raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Huh? What do you mean?” 

“Well, I don’t know her like you obviously do Andy, but could it be that she might’ve been angrier at herself than at you?” 

“I don’t get what you’re trying to say, Doug? Why would-” 

“C’mon, Andy. Her daughter confessed to her  _ assistant  _ that she’s sad because of her. The kid came to  _ you  _ to talk about it instead of her own mother. I’m pretty sure any mom would feel guilty about that. About their child running off to someone else for comfort.” 

Andy sat back, letting that sink in for a moment. When she reached the conclusion that Doug hit the nail on the head, her eyes widening in realization. -  _ God, how could I have been so dense? _ She berated herself. 

“Oh, my God. I think you’re right.” 

“Of course, I am.” Doug laughed at her astounded face. 

“Well, I guess, that’s good, isn’t it? I mean, y’know, that she isn’t angrier at me than she already is. Well, by much, but still, yeah.” 

Doug smirking wickedly. He knew there was so much more going on with his best friend that she was so obviously oblivious to, and he was going to have a damn good time making her see through her ignorance. 

Silence fell over them for several moments with Doug considering how best to approach the subject about his friend’s obsession. 

“Andy?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why is this so important to you, anyway? I mean, she’s just your boss. A horrible one at that-” 

Andy blinked out of her seemingly content daze, interrupting Doug. “She’s not horrible-” 

“And why do you keep defending her when someone, other than you, says something bad about her?” 

“What? I’m doing no such thing!” She scoffed. 

“Except that you do, Andy. I mean, it’s ok for you to talk about how ridiculously mean, pompous and pretentious she is, but not when I do it. You don’t even read Page-Six anymore because you don’t like what they write about Miranda.” He tried to make her see how unusual she’s been behaving. 

“I, I-” Andy frowned and shook her head. She hadn’t realized she did indeed defend Miranda when someone spoke ill of her until now. “I don’t know, Doug. What’s wrong with me? I should hate her guts because of the way she’s been treating me, shouldn’t I?” 

“But you don’t?” His question sounded more like a statement because he already knew the answer. 

“No, I guess not.” Shaking her head, Andy sat back in her seat, feeling a little confused by the revelation. 

“Then what  _ do  _ you think of her, other than her being a bitch to you?” Doug asked, a knowing look on his face. 

Andy looked heavenwards, thinking what a useless question that was, but then her mind drifted to the silver-haired woman, consuming her as she started to voiced her unfiltered thoughts. She gazed down over his shoulder, hazel eyes glazing over when she started to speak. “Well, I think she’s smart, crazy smart, brilliant more like it, and witty. God, she can be so funny sometimes even when she’s purposely not trying to be. I mean, she excels at dry humor and sarcasm, it’s seriously amusing to watch when it isn’t directed towards me. She’s so passionate about her work, it’s enthralling to watch her fall into it at times. And she’s so fucking confident it’s incredible. You can literally  _ feel  _ her presence even before you see her. Not to mention how beautiful she is. The way she dresses it’s-” 

“Andy-” 

“It’s amazing. The clothes she wears are amazing, but it’s  _ her  _ that makes them beautiful.” Andy continued on, not realizing Doug tried to interrupt her. “And her eyes-” 

“Andy-” 

“My God, I’ve never seen eyes like hers before. They’re so blue. After her cerulean rant, I’ve been trying to discern all the different shades and colors but none I’ve found matches the color of her eyes. And her hair-” 

“Andrea!” 

Andy blinked out of her stupor and focused back on Doug. “What?” 

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “My God, Andy. Do you even hear yourself?” 

Frowning in confusion she asked again. “What?” 

Sighing, he shook his head. -  _ So dense, so fucking dense. _ He thought. Then looked back up, staring his friend in the eye and conveyed in all seriousness. “Girl, I think you’re in love.” 

“WHAT?!” Andy yelled incredulously, then proceeded to laugh as if he just made the joke of the year. “Don’t be ridiculous, Dougie.” 

Doug remained serious. “But I’m not, though. Did you really didn’t hear yourself just now? I mean, I’ve known you since we were little kids and I’ve  _ never  _ heard you talk like you just did about someone. Not even Nate or any of your boyfriends or crushes before him for that matter. I’ve never even seen that look on your face you just had when you talked about her, and that’s saying something.” 

“C’mon, I’m not in love with her, Doug!” Andy retorted indignantly. “I envy and respect her, for sure. But  _ love _ ?! You’re insane. I’m straight for heaven’s sake.” 

“What do you think about her legs?” He deadpanned. 

“What? What kind of question is that?” 

“Just answer the question, Andy.” 

The brunette huffed, crossing her arms over her chest once more in her usual self-defending manner. 

“C’mon. Indulge me?” Doug asked sweetly. 

“I, I-” Andy sighed, then she complied to his frolic and tried to picture Miranda’s legs. Unconsciously her eyes closed and she started to see a picture in her mind’s eye. 

Elegantly crossed at the knee. Long, thin legs with smooth alabaster skin, beautifully defined calves. Strong thighs, unfortunately, concealed by a tight charcoal pencil skirt. Five-inch, suede Louboutin heels on her feet, one of them salaciously drawing circles in the air. The whole picture was provocatively sensuous and frankly, it started to turn her on. 

Her eyes snapped open in shocked disbelief and she saw Doug holding out a napkin for her, a smug look on his face. 

“You’re drooling.” He teased. Andy quickly wiped her hand over her mouth before she realized he was joking. 

“Asshole.” She murmured, slumping down in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Well?” Doug prompted. 

“Well, what?” The brunette sneered. 

“What do you think of her legs?” He repeated the question, once again, already knowing the answer.

Andy sat up straight, huffing. “Alright, fine! I see your point. She’s hot. Of course, she is. That doesn’t mean anything,  y’know . I know  _ you  _ would even sleep with her if you’d ever got the chance. You, and any other gay men, and straight women, and the whole fucking world would, given the chance. But I’m not in love with her, Doug. That’s just preposterous.” 

_ My God! How can anybody be so ridiculously dense?! _ He thought to himself once more. “Are you sure about that? Because-” 

“Of course, I’m sure! It’s just a case of hero-worship or something, a little infatuation-” 

“A little?!” 

“But it’s not love, Doug! It’s not, it can’t be. She’s my boss for God’s sake! My older, mother of two, twice divorced, diabolical, wickedly vicious, insanely malicious boss. Not to mention that she hates my guts. How could I ever love someone like that?” 

“You forgot to mention that she’s a woman.” Doug grinned. “And, I don’t know, you tell me? 

Andy bitterly glared at him then down at her lap as she let out a heavy sigh. Her head was pounding and she suddenly felt utterly exhausted and confused. This conversation hadn’t been at all what she had expected, nor its outcome. Thoughts swirled through her mind and she felt the need to escape from it all. Feeling confined sitting in the corner booth and needing desperately to breathe, she got up from her seat and looked down at her friend, a look of sadness on her face. 

“Thanks for the talk, Dougie.” -  _ Not really. _ She thought. “But I’m going to head on home.” 

“Andy? Are you sure? I’m sorry if-” Worriedly, Doug looked up at his friend. 

“Yeah, I just-, need some time to process and stuff. I’ll call you, ok?” 

“Ok, love you.” Doug resigned, knowing his friend needed her space for now. 

“Love you, too.” The brunette called out over her shoulder and exited the deli. 

Forgoing taking the subway back to her apartment, the young woman absentmindedly picked a random direction and started walking. Intending to clear her head of all thoughts about the silver-haired woman but unsurprisingly, failed miserably. 

_ Me? In love with Miranda Priestly? That’s just utterly ridiculous. _ Andy thought to herself. 

_ For God’s sake, just several moments ago I didn’t even realize I could be attracted to another woman, let alone fall in love with one. I mean, seriously?! I just had to go and develop a crush on La Priestly, out of everyone!  _

_ I must be insane. That’s obviously it, there must be something horribly wrong with me. There’s no other explanation.  _

_ Really, I’m not in love with her. It’s just a ridiculous case of hero-worship.  _

_ Well, duh! That’s exactly it... Right?  _

_ I just envy her, respect her, even though she’s a bitch.  _

_ Sure, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on-  _

“God damn it! I’m not in love with her! I’m so fucking not!” Andy groaned out in frustration, then looked up towards the heavens. 

“Miranda Priestly, what you do to me...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	5. Chapter 5

Monday came sooner than the brunette was ready for. She wasn’t even close to figuring out her thoughts and feelings over the weekend, having made them even more incomprehensible by drowning them out with cheap wine, and now she had to face the subject of said thoughts and feelings. Getting off the subway and walking towards the Starbucks in front of Elias-Clark to retrieve Miranda’s coffee, she made up her mind to try and forget about it all for now. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. Working for the editor was already hard enough on any given day, working for the editor and making a mistake because she couldn’t focus was simply unforgivable. So, the brunette was left with no choice but to forget about her confusing thoughts, gather her wits and proceed the day like she had done for the last year, by being Miranda Priestly’s perfect, little lap dog. 

Unfortunately, all those thoughts were thrown out of the window as she watched the silver-haired woman step off the elevator onto the Runway floor. 

_Oh, dear God! What have I done to deserve this?!_ The young woman implored helplessly. 

Wearing a tight, above-the-knee charcoal pencil skirt with short slits at the sides, clinging to sensual hips as if it were a second skin. Five-inch Louboutin's, clacking loudly on the marble floors. The assistant’s breath caught in her throat as she struggled to recall the list of errands Miranda was exacting. The brunette’s gaze dropped, following the editor to the offices. For a moment she felt hypnotized as she watched enticingly swaying hips, and a slightly bouncing, firm derrière. Realizing what she was doing, she quickly snapped her head back up. When they arrived at the outer office, she watched as Miranda undid the button of her burgundy wool cape. Sliding it off slender but imposing shoulders, to reveal shimmering silk, white blouse with silver embroidery. The low cut showing just the right amount of cleavage that was still deemed appropriate for the workplace. A silver necklace spitefully taunting to attract the gaze between the valley of voluptuous breasts, completing the entire ensemble. 

Andy felt hot all over, her skin tingled, and she scrunched her teeth together, trying to get rid of the high-pitched tone she heard reverberating in her ears. Picking up the Starbucks cup from her desk, she followed the editor into the inner office and placed it down on the glass desk with slightly trembling fingers. The brunette kept her face downcast onto her notepad as she backed away from the desk, afraid the reaction she had to her boss was showing on her face. 

After writing down the last of her boss’ initial list of instructions, she waited for the usual dismissal from the office. Several moments passed and when none was forthcoming, she dared to look up at the editor, wondering why she hadn’t sent her away yet. For a second, she thought she was going to faint as she locked her eyes with arctic blues. 

Miranda was staring at her over her reading glasses which were slid slightly down her imperial nose, sharp chin lightly tucked in which caused her iconic forelock to fall partly over her left eye. She ran the knuckle of her index finger over her bottom lip, elbow elegantly poised on the desk. Regal posture lightly bending forward, gave Andy a full display of cleavage and at the smooth skin of the slopes of her breasts. Underneath the glass desk, she saw alabaster legs, crossed at the knee with one foot slowly drawing circles in the air. 

Andy had to remind herself to breathe before she would pass out and forced her eyes back up to Miranda’s. If Miranda noticed the blatant perusal of her form, she didn’t let it show. Her face remained perfectly stoic as her gaze seemed to pierce right through Andy’s soul. 

“Is something wrong, Andréa?” The silver-haired woman queried in a bored voice. “Or did you forget your obnoxious defying little attitude at home today?” The rhetorical question definitely hid a hint of challenge in it. 

Mind still reeling from the vision that is Miranda Priestly, and trying to ignore the little jab she felt in her chest, Andy struggled to come up with a remark of her own as she stumbled over her words. 

“What? No, you-, I mean, I-, I-” 

“Not up for the challenge, I see. How disappointing.” 

“I-” 

“That’s all.” Came the soft, disinterested dismissal making the assistant blink out of her fluster. Turning around, she almost stumbled in her haste to leave the building to get on with her tasks for the day. 

*** 

Sitting in the back of a town car on her way to fetch a selection of Hermès scarves, the young assistant was inwardly berating herself for her lack of decorum. She had been in such a shock for not being able to process the reaction her body had to the older woman that it had short-circuited her brain into mush. 

_That had certainly never happened to me before._ The brunette mused. _Why now, though?_

“It’s all Doug’s fault. Him and his stupid know-it-all face.” She grumbled out loud, ignoring the strange look the driver was giving her in the rear-view mirror. 

_I need to snap out of it. I’m not some foolish high school girl fawning over some silly little crush._

_And it’s not a crush, damn it!_

_She’s Miranda Priestly, for God’s sake. She’s literally the reincarnation of the Devil in heels, an uber-bitch, and she hates me with a burning passion for crying out loud. How can I even remotely like someone like_ ** _that_** _?_

_Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it? As I said, she hates my guts. There’s no way she would ever see me as something more than just her obnoxious, defying little lapdog of an assistant._

_And it’s not like I want her to..._

_Except, that I do._

_That was the whole point, wasn’t it? One of the main reasons why I returned to her in Paris._

_Next to saving any future career prospects, I wanted to show her that I wasn’t some ignorant coward who’d run away and quit when things started to get hard, or when faced with something I don’t like or don’t approve of._

_I realize what she did to Nigel was merely business, it was the only thing she could’ve done to save her own skin. Even if she could’ve done it differently, like not throw her most loyal employee unknowingly under the bus for example. But_ _nooo_ _, she couldn’t even have_ ** _tried_** _to be a bigger person._

_Yes, that’s exactly what I’d set out to prove to her. That I_ **_can_** _become her equal, by not stabbing friends in the back. By not being such a degrading person to the people I work with._

_And well, if she’s that adamant on wanting to see me fail, if she’s that dead set on pointing out all the things she thinks I’m lacking, well, then she’s leaving me no choice but to show her that she made a huge mistake in underestimating me._

_I’ll show her that I’m not some worthless nobody. I’ll just have to_ ** _make_** _her notice me, make her regret, and take back all the mean things she’s said to me._

_Miranda Priestly, if you want a challenge, well then, you’ve just got yourself one._

*** 

Andy strode into the inner office, her gait powerful, and oozing self-confidence. A stark contrast to the flustered and stumbling woman of just a couple of hours ago. She set down the bags of samples she’d been sent out to gather all over the city on the coffee table in front of the couch in the corner of the room. Then she whipped out her notepad and leisurely stalked towards Miranda who was still seated behind her desk. 

“Everything you’ve asked for is in those bags. Galliano had a surprisingly small number of samples at the ready so I asked Westwood if they could spare some more of her newly finished designs since you’d taken a particular liking to her latest collection. Simons is back in New York, so I’ve taken the liberty to call him. I’d heard through the grapevine that Vogue was hunting him down for an interview. Apparently, Simons is about to reveal a new line in collaboration with Prada. It took some convincing, but I was able to score an interview later this week. I’ve already sent out an email to Leanna to prepare, and I scheduled a lunch meeting with him at Le Bernardin on Wednesday.” 

Placing two vanilla folders on the desk, the brunette continued. “Here are the lay-outs from the Bethesda shoot, and the information on that new photographer you were headhunting for. Your meeting with editorial had to be delayed because of some unforeseen complications but I made sure that they’d be ready by 4, so I brought up the run-through to 3:30. You’d be ready to leave the office at 5, in time to get home before the girls get back from their father’s.” 

The two women had fixed their stares at each other when Andy started listing off everything she’d accomplished over the past few hours, as if it all had been a piece of cake when in actuality, it had taken her a great deal of effort, especially in scoring that interview with Simons. She had to call in a few favors, but nevertheless succeeded and it hadn’t even been asked of her to do it. Knowing it would’ve been something the editor would’ve wanted in finding out about the Prada collaboration. This was huge unannounced news and the brunette silently swelled with satisfactory pride when she saw the editor’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. 

They stared for several long moments, and this time, Andy didn’t even try to hide the smugness that she felt. But she also couldn’t help but notice that Miranda’s arctic blues were a slightly darker shade than usual. 

_Not quite as dark as an ocean blue, they’re more like opal orbs, with their arctic ice still twinkling in their depths._ The young assistant mused. Then her mind screeched to a halt. 

_What am I thinking?!_

_Focus, Andy. C’mon, focus._

_But my God, I’ve never seen anything quite like them. They’re beau-_

_Focus, Andy!_

_Oh, she’s raising her eyebrow in that haughty way she does. You know what’s coming now, don’t you, Andy?_

“Well, you’ve certainly gone out of your way to fetch, haven’t you, Andréa?” The editor said, malice slightly hinting in her tone, obviously aggravated that the brunette hadn’t given her anything to complain over. 

“Of course, Miranda. Just doing _my job_ , after all.” The assistant responded feigning innocence, flashing her mega-watt smile. 

“And, pray tell, why are you still _here_ , breathing the same air as me? Are you expecting a nice little pat on the back, for me to give you a gold star on the forehead or God forbids, even a ‘thank you’ perhaps?” 

“Oh, no. Certainly not, Miranda. I’m merely waiting for you to tell me what else I can do for you.” Andy quipped back. 

“You-” The editor began, but Andy pretended not to notice Miranda was about to speak and interrupted. 

“But since I’m clearly not needed for the moment, I’ll be heading off to Nigel’s.” 

With a face-splitting grin, the brunette turned on her heel and sashayed out of the office. 

_How do you like them apples, boss?_ The young woman chuckled to herself. 

*** 

“Nigel!” 

“WHA-?!” The art director jumped up from the stool he was sitting on where he’d been inspecting picture proofs with a magnifying glass. “Damn you, Six! Don’t do that to me. Not if you want me to suffer from a heart attack.” 

“Sorry, sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” The brunette said, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye after her laughter had settled down. 

“Mhm, I’m sure you couldn’t.” The art director queried skeptically. Then he promptly spun his stool back around facing his desk and continued on with the proofs. 

The young assistant perched on the corner of his desk and patiently waited for him to acknowledge her again. After several long moments, her patience was rewarded. 

“Is there a reason why you’ve decided to breathe the same air as me?” The art director asked, not looking away from his desk as he circled out a selection of pictures he deemed suitable. 

“Funny, Miranda just said the exact same thing. She must be rubbing off on you.” Andy jested back. 

“I’m not sure if I should consider that a compliment or not.” Nigel looked up, genuinely confused for a second, then shrugged it off, his face turning back to feigned boredom. 

“Yeah, that’s a tough one.” Andy joked. 

“So, why have you decided to grace me with your perky presence, or are you simply here wasting my time?” Nigel stood up, proofs in hand, and walked over to the other side of his office to a file cabinet. 

“I need a favor.” Andy deadpanned, following the art director right at his heels. 

“Oh, dear God, help me. What is it this time?” He asked dramatically, pulling out a vanilla folder from a drawer. 

“I need another make-over.” At that, the art director finally decided to face her. 

“What? Why? You’ve been dressing yourself rather tolerably..., and if you repeat that, I’ll deny it.” He looked her up and down, nodding slightly at her ensemble. Which consisted of a Saunt Laurent floral silk blouse tucked in a high-rise camel brown Alexander McQueen trousers, and black Jimmy Choo 3,5-inch heels. 

“Wow, such high praise coming from you. She’s definitely rubbing off on you, Nige.” The brunette smirked. Their banter easily flowing between them. 

“Ha-ha. Care to explain why you need my worldly desired assistance again?” 

“Careful, dear. If you keep talking about yourself like that, those turtle neck sweaters won’t be able to fit around your neck next winter.” 

“Careful, dear. If you keep it up like that, you won’t be getting anything from me.” 

“Right, sorry. So, what d’ya say, my lovely fairy Godfather? You wanna help vamp me up?” 

“My, such groveling, Six. This must be serious. Vamp you up, you say? Why?” Nigel suspiciously raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Well, I guess I’ve grown rather bored with the way I dress. It’s rather-” 

“Comfortably dull?” He quipped. 

“Gee thanks, but yeah. I want to try something new. Something a little more... daring.” Andy said, looking down for a moment to avert from his curious gaze. 

“You seeking someone’s approval, dear Six? A new boy-toy perhaps? The art director queried, leaning in closer as if they were having a secretive exchange. 

“What? No! Nothing like that, I swear. Just want to spice things up a little. Venture out of my comfort zone. I work for Runway, after all. Shouldn’t I at least try a little harder to represent our image? You know as well as I do that we have a certain reputation to uphold, right?” The young assistant tried in vain to steer him away from the real reason why she was asking for his help. 

Not being fooled, Nigel turned serious. “This is rather unlike you, Six. What did Miranda say to you?” 

“Uhm, Miranda? I didn’t say- What does she have to do with it?” Andy looked away again, trying to fight the oncoming blush she felt creeping up her chest. 

“She has everything to do with it. C’mon, Andy. I know you. I know you don’t give a rat's arse about Runway’s image, and I’m not taking offense by that coming from you, so don’t worry about that. But I do need to know why you’re suddenly so keen on seeking out Miranda’s approval, even more than you’ve already been doing since Paris.” 

“I’m not necessarily seeking out her approval.” 

Nigel scoffed in disbelief. “Right.” 

Sighing, Andy tried to explain without giving too much away. “I’m just sick and tired of all the cutting remarks, y’know. I know that’s what she does and who she is, but even you have to admit that she’s been treating me worse than anyone else, and no matter what I do or say, she’s not letting up. I just want to show her that I’m more than what she thinks of me.” 

“That still sounds like seeking out her approval to me.” 

“Ok, fine. I am! I want to show her that I’m not the same naïve, little Andy I was when I first started here or that foolish girl that turned her back on her in the middle of Fashion Week. I want to prove that she’s wrong about me. That I do have a spine and that I am indeed capable of achieving success, whilst oozing fucking confidence in doing so. So, will you help me or not?” 

A wide, devilish grin spread across the art director’s face. “Oh, my dear Six. You had me at make-over.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	6. Chapter 6

“What in the bloody hell are you wearing?!” Came she squealing question from the red-haired first assistant. 

“My, those pants certainly seem like they were made for you, querida.” Serena commented, sliding her glasses down her nose and slowly perused the brunette from head to toe. 

Andy grinned from ear to ear. “Why, thank you, Serena. Though I must admit, these are seriously like the least comfortable pants ever, and don’t even get me started on the bodice or the heels for that matter.” The brunette gestured to her outfit. 

The midnight blue, faux-leather Tom Ford dress pants were easily the tightest pants she’d ever worn, clinging to every inch of her skin. Not to mention that her feet felt like they were being tortured in 4,5-inch strappy metallic Gianvito Rossi stiletto’s, and the black lace and silk bodice she wore under the gun grey, see-through D&G blouse was almost painfully, squeezing her breasts together. To say that this was the most uncomfortable outfit she’d ever worn was a huge understatement. But God damn, she’d never felt so hot in her entire life before, making the sweet torture certainly worth it. Separately, the pieces were rather provocative, but the brunette loved the fact that the entire ensemble put together gave off a sensually but mostly regally classic vibe. 

“Here, put this on.” The blonde beauty director handed Andy a tube of blood-red lipstick. 

“Ooh, that’s gorgeous. Thanks, Serena.” 

“Not unlike you, querida.” The blonde winked, smiling lusciously. “I’m definitely not complaining, but what brought about this change?” 

Blushing, Andy shrugged her shoulders. “Just trying something different. Runway’s all about innovation, isn’t it? Seems only right to follow its ethos.” 

“Yes, well. About bloody time for you to start learning a thing or two about what goes on around here.” The haughty redhead said, seemingly unable to take her eyes off the brunette’s form. 

“Oh, Em. Does that mean you approve?” Andy jested, grinning widely. 

The redhead scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t go  _ that  _ far, but I hate to admit that you’re not entirely atrocious looking.” 

“Wow, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” The brunette said, flashing her face-splitting smile. 

Emily’s response was to sniff and roll her eyes again, causing the two other women in the outer office to laugh out loud. 

*** 

Coming in from an early breakfast meeting with a new up-and-coming designer, Miranda strode into the outer office, flinging her coat and bag on Andy’s desk, and continued into the inner office without so much as a glance towards her assistants. 

The brunette was practically vibrating in her seat, waiting impatiently for the editor to call her in. For over an hour, the assistants continued on with their respective tasks, firing off emails, taking phone calls, scheduling meetings, and updating said schedule. Then the inevitable call was made. 

“Andréa.” Came the soft voice from the silver-haired woman. 

With a jump-start, Andy’s heartbeat sped up as she gathered her pen and notepad, and got up from behind her desk, striding into the Devil’s lair with lightning speed. 

The editor sat behind her desk, head down, examining several layouts that were spread out across her desk. 

“Get me a coffee and cancel any further appointments with that ridiculous oaf of a man who just wasted my time over breakfast. Have a selection of Chanel’s spring collection delivered by this afternoon, complete with accessories, and email me a list of suitable models for the Bannerman ruins shoot, aristocratic features are a must. Yesterday’s meeting with editorial was sorely lacking any competence, you’re sitting in on toda-… -y’s...” 

Andy looked up from her notepad, just in time to see the look of utter astonishment on Miranda’s face. A look that was never seen before within the walls of Runway. The older woman seemed to have forgotten herself for a moment, belatedly schooling her mask back in place. The assistant was painfully clenching her jaw tight, trying desperately not to grin like an idiot, but couldn’t hide the triumphant twinkle in her hazel eyes. 

“You’re taking notes on today’s conference.” Miranda finished, voice slightly hollow as arctic eyes perused Andy from chest to toe and back up, lingering imperceptible longer on the chest part, but Andy had taken notice. 

“Yes, Miranda.” The young woman confirmed slower and lower than she usually did. 

The editor blinked and snapped her eyes back up, piercing Andy with a narrowed gaze. 

As was starting to become a regular occurrence and customary exchange between the two women, they stared back into each other’s eyes with neither woman showing any signs of yielding first. 

Andy felt the entire world start to fade into the background until there was nothing left but the space between the two women. The nearly visible tension between them seemed to thicken so much so that even the sharpest pair of scissors wouldn’t be able to cut through it. Electrifying energy crackled all around them, tingling the brunette’s skin and making the tiny hairs all over her body raise in attention. 

This time, the young woman didn’t let herself get lost in all the sensations though. She took advantage of the tension and energy, wielding them in munition, letting them charge her spirits, and strengthened her resolve. 

With their resolutely locked gaze as their ostensibly only form of communicable connection between them, the brunette tried to convey her thoughts through her fiery hazel eyes. 

_ That’s right.  _ **_ See me _ ** _ , Miranda.  _

_ I’m not afraid of you any longer, nor will I ever be again.  _

_ And I,  _ **_ see you _ ** _.  _

_ You’re simply human, like the rest of us.  _

_ You just proved that you’re not unaffected by me.  _

_ And this won’t be all I’ve got up my sleeve for you.  _

_ You just wait and see, Miranda.  _

_ You just wait and  _ **_ see _ ** _.  _

Slowly but surely, Miranda started to rise from her seat with unparalleled elegance. Fingertips pressing down on the surface of the glass desk, the editor leaned forward as if readying herself to jump across and attack the younger woman. 

“And just what do you think you are doing, Andréa?” The silver-haired woman sneered menacingly. 

The brunette stately stalked forward until she reached the desk, and slowly imitated the editor’s stance, placing her fingertips on the surface and leaning forward. Miranda’s unique and heavenly perfume permeated her senses, making her head buzz pleasantly. She had to bite on the tip of her tongue to not let herself get distracted by the lightness it started to cause in her mind. It thrilled her to notice that she stood slightly taller than the older woman, causing her to look down into arctic-turned-opal orbs. 

“ _ My job _ , Miranda.” Andy taunted. 

Another moment of silence passed between them with Andy fighting the magnetic pull she felt to lean in even further. 

“What exactly are you trying to prove, Andréa?” The editor’s tone had dropped slightly, causing a shiver to run up and down the brunette’s spine. 

“That I am capable of doing anything, Miranda. Don’t you know that by now?” The brunette said, daring to smirk at the older woman. 

“And you think that changing your appearance, will suddenly help you achieve in doing so?” Miranda spoke as if she were talking to an ignorant child. 

“No.” Andy stopped resisting the magnetic pull and leaned in slightly. “But my actions from here on out most definitely will. You just wait and see. _Miranda_.” Andy said, purring out the editor’s name. 

And then it happened. 

The brunette watched in intrigued alertness as the slight crack in the Devil’s armor exposed itself. 

Arctic-turned-opal orbs darkened to a deep oceanic blue, nearly swallowed whole by the black of her pupils as the gaze dropped to the blood-red, lipstick coated full lips of the younger woman. 

But just as the Devil’s resolve had wavered by breaking their gaze, so did Andy’s as her breath caught in her throat and eyes slightly widened in ambivalence. 

The brunette’s misstep didn’t go unnoticed by the editor either, who drew back and standing up straight, broke the spell that had been cast upon them. 

“Well, then start by making yourself useful for once and stop wasting my time. I do not care what you do to make you feel better about yourself. Really, what I do not understand is why you’re currently not running off to fetch me my coffee? Or has that suddenly become too difficult for you to comprehend, Andréa?” Miranda’s tone was deadly, dripping with poison, making another shiver run up the brunette’s spine, but not in a good way. 

“No, I-” The assistant tried, but to no avail. 

“No? Well, then stop bothering me with your obnoxious presence and go  _ fetch _ . That’s all.” The editor flicked her hands in a shooing motion, dismissing the brunette from her office. 

Andy had to suppress a groan and walked away, feeling her spirits deflate, and set about in doing what she was told to do. 

_ You’ve become quite the conceited, cheeky little lap dog, haven’t you, Andréa? _ Miranda’s voice invaded her thoughts. 

*** 

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Doug.” The brunette groaned into her phone went she heard the tell-tale click of her friend picking up. 

“Well, hello to you too, Andy. I had a great day, thank you for asking.” Doug jested. 

“Seriously, I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I realize I’m desperately seeking out her approval but for what? For her to just continue mocking me? Telling me time and time again how insignificant I am to her? I don’t know why I let it bother me this much. It doesn’t make any sense.” Andy ranted in frustration. She heard Doug sigh loudly over the phone. 

“Didn’t we already go over this? It’s because you’re, for some unfathomable reason, in l-” 

The brunette interrupted, yelling in exasperation. “I’m NOT in love with her, for crying out loud!” 

“Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, babe. I’m sure that will solve your issues.” Doug joshed back. 

“Love has got nothing to do with it, Doug. Trust me, I definitely don’t want to love that woman. Apart from her children, I don’t think Miranda is capable of being nice to anyone.” The brunette crashed down onto her couch, almost spilling the cheap wine from the heavily filled glass she held in her other hand. 

“So, is that it? You want the Dragon Lady to be nice to you?” Doug asked, incredulity lacing his voice.

“Don’t call her that! And no, that’s like reaching for the stars, Doug.” 

He dramatically rolled his eyes, taking advantage of the fact that his friend couldn’t see him. “So, what then? What is it that you want from her?” 

“I-, y’know.” The brunette sounded uncertain. 

“You what?” 

Hesitantly, Andy admitted. “I want her to see that I’m worth something.” 

“Why?” Doug pressed further. 

“I-, I-,… I don’t know!” The brunette ran her hand through her damp tresses, then pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers in a very Miranda-like gesture. “I just want her to stop being so fucking condescending all the time.” 

Doug smirked to himself. “So, you  _ do  _ want her to be nice to you? Aren’t you reaching for the stars, babe?” 

“...” Andy nibbled on her thumb’s nail, hating the fact that his friend seemed to be right all the time. 

“Andy?” 

Sighing deeply, the brunette resigned. “I don’t know what else to do, Doug. I broke my back for her this week, went above and beyond everything that was expected of me. I even let Nigel revamp me into a classy courtesan, for God’s sake.” 

Doug’s eyebrows shot heavenwards. -  _ God, I have to see that!  _ He thought to himself. “He did? Wow, how’d that go?” 

Taking the last swing from her glass, the brunette laid down on the couch and started twirling a strand of hair around her index finger. “Started out pretty well the first day, I guess. But I haven’t seen much of her afterward. Every time she’s in, she’s sending me out, and every time I’m in, she’s out. It’s like she’s avoiding me like the plague or something.” 

_ Interesting _ . He mused. “So, what happened that first day?” 

Andy looked up at the ceiling, remembering their tension-filled moment, and promptly told herself that it is because of the wine why she felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “Well, she obviously wasn’t expecting the change. I caught her off guard for a moment, but nothing else. As I said, I haven’t really seen much of her this week.” 

Doug sensed that his friend wasn’t entirely forthcoming, but decided not to poke the bear too much. “You caught her off guard and now she’s avoiding you like the plague?”  _ \- Oh! Wait a minute. Hmm, who would’ve thought? My God, she’s dense, so fucking dense. _ He shook his head. 

“What are you thinking, Doug?” The brunette queried. 

“Oh, nothing really. Except that we’re going out tomorrow night.” Doug grinned devilishly. 

Andy sighed. “I’m not really in the mood-” 

“C’mon, Andy." Doug wasn’t having it. “You need to let off some steam. We’re going out, forget about a certain silver-haired woman and have some intoxicated fun. Before you drive yourself completely bonkers trying to please said silver-haired woman.” 

Andy annoyingly realized he was right, again. “Alright, fine. You’re right. I do want to forget about it all, even if it’s just for one night.” 

If Doug had both his hands free, he would’ve clapped them together gleefully. “Great!” 

*** 

“You dragged me to a gay club?!” The brunette had to nearly shout at her friend to be heard over the loud, booming music. 

“Yeah! Isn’t it great! I figured we should explore little queer Andy for the night.” Doug grinned excitingly, motioning for the bartender to refill their shot glasses. 

Andy frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, huffing, she said. “You’re being ridiculous, Doug. I’m not queer.” 

A mischievous twinkle sparked in Doug’s eyes. “Mhmm, what do you think of Miranda’s breasts?” 

The brunette's eyes widened as she blushed profusely. “No, we’re not going there!” 

Leaning in closer, he wickedly whispered in her ear. “You sure you don’t want to go  _ in  _ there?” 

“Stop it!” Andy squeaked, causing Doug to grab his belly in laughter. 

“Aw, stop your pouting. It’s unattractive. You’re not going to get laid if you keep moping like that.” 

Rolling her eyes, Andy shook her head. “I don’t want to get laid, Doug.” 

“Not even with Mir- Auw!” The brunette punched him. “Ok, I deserved that.” He said, rubbing his arm. 

“That, and so much more.” Andy grumbled. 

“Alright, fine. Let’s make a deal. Every time one of us mentions Miranda, that person has to down a shot.” Doug grinned, holding out his hand to her. 

The brunette narrowed her eyes and looked at him quizzically. Then shook his hand. “Deal.” 

Not letting go of her hand, Doug dragged his friend along with him towards the dancefloor. “C’mon, let’s live a little!” 

*** 

The young woman was starting to feel the effects of the several shots she’d had to drink. Her mind was buzzing pleasantly, and her body tingled thrillingly as her hips loosened up, swaying to the beat of the music blasting through the speakers. It felt good to be out of her little apartment or not to have to think about anything work-related as the alcohol and music drowned out her thoughts. She enjoyed being swept up in the throng of people surrounding her, having an honestly good time, and not being judged by any of them. Feeling the tension that had accumulated over the past several months drain away from her body, the brunette gave in to the freeing sensations and started dancing without having a care in the world. 

Several women came up to her, exchanging charming and flirtatious banter, offering her drinks which she sometimes accepted and other times politely declined. Andy reveled in the attention, from the overly gay men complimenting her on how well she wore the dark ruby, chiffon Michael Kors cocktail dress to the butch women trying to charm her in exchanging phone numbers. 

“Your turn to get drinks!” Doug slurred, unnecessarily loud in her ear. “Get me another mojito!” 

“Fine!” She shouted back. 

The brunette made her way through the crowded dancefloor towards the bar and gestured for the bartender. Waiting for her turn, the young woman turned sideways and watched as people of all walks of life danced and mingled with each other, a contented grin lingering on her face. 

“I was about to ask if you’ve been here before, but then realized how stupid that sounded.” 

She heard a woman say from behind her and turned around to face her, her smile widening. The woman was beautiful, seemed to be about the same age as the brunette, with long, wavy caramel blonde hair with a dark blue streak in the front, sapphire blue eyes, and flashing a blinding smile that rivaled Andy’s own. 

Laughing, the brunette engaged. “That’s all right. I’m pretty horrible at pick-up lines myself.” 

The bartender came up to her. “What can I get’ya?” He asked. 

“Two mojito’s and-?” Andy looked back at the blonde, asking with her smile and eyes what the other woman wanted to drink. 

“Oh, uhm, gin-tonic.” 

“-and a gin-tonic, please.” The brunette finished placing their order and faced the blonde once more. “I’m Andy.” She said, holding out her hand. The blonde’s warm hand slid into hers, gripping it tightly. 

“Louise. I’ve never seen you around here before. I’m sure I would’ve remembered you if I did.” She said, slowly letting go of the brunette’s hand. 

Andy laughed. “Ok, yeah. You’re much better at pick-up lines than I am. And no, it’s my first time. My very out-going and very gay friend dragged me out here tonight.” 

“Your friend had to drag you? Why? Is this not your usual scene?” Louise queried. 

The brunette’s smile faltered slightly. “Well, I-, no, not really, but… maybe?” 

Chuckling, Louise took a step closer. “You didn’t seem bothered by my attempt at a pick-up line. So, I’m guessing you’re more of a maybe rather than a not really?” Louise smiled flirtatiously. 

The brunette blushed. “I-” 

“Here you go!” The bartender placed their drinks in front of the brunette. 

“Thanks!” Andy smiled at him. She picked up the gin-tonic and handed it over to the blonde, who took it from her, fingers brushing over hers. 

“Thanks, Andy.” Louise flashed her mega-watt smile again. 

“You’re welcome. I’m gonna hand this one over to my friend, but uhm, you wanna join us?” The brunette asked hesitantly. 

Louise nodded. “Love to.” She gestured towards the dancefloor. “Lead the way.” 

*** 

After another mojito, the brunette felt suitably drunk, her inhibitions drowned out, pushed back deep into the recesses of her mind. Warm hands circled around her waist and she leaned in backward against a swaying body, her hips joining and matching the sensual movements. 

“God, you’re so beautiful, Andy.” The blonde whispered, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. 

Grinning and feeling intoxicatingly bold, the brunette turned around within the circle of arms and raised hers to rest upon slender shoulders. Louise’s arms tightened their hold, pulling Andy’s body flush against hers as they continued to dance to the rhythm of the music. 

The brunette was entranced in the feeling of a warm and curvaceous body pruriently moving against hers. It was a new experience but nevertheless reveled in the exotic feeling. 

When sapphire eyes, once again, locked with her hazel ones, the brunette smiled and feeling emboldened she leaned in closer. 

“I love the way you move against me.” 

Andy watched as pupils dilated and she bit down on her bottom lip as Louise’s tongue poked out to moisten hers. Without thinking, the brunette leaned in and captured the blonde’s plump lips. 

They kissed slowly at first, lips brushing lightly over each other. 

_ God, I’ve never felt lips this soft before.  _ The brunette mused. 

Pressing in further, the intensity grew in fervor. Bodies brushed against each other, radiating off heat, as their hands roamed, their touches burning through their dresses. 

Bottom lip being caught between sharp teeth had Andy groaning and then moaning as a hot tongue ran over it to soothe out the sting. The brunette’s mind grew salacious as her hands explored voluptuous rounds and curves, wantonly kissing back. Lips parted and tongues ventured forward, stroking and tasting each other. 

_ Fuck, she tastes so sweet, slightly bitter, but so good.  _ Andy thought to herself. 

_ I wonder what Miranda tastes like.  _

With a gasp, the brunette pulled back, instantly snapping out of her lustful daze. 

With hooded eyes, Louise looked at her questioningly. “Wha-” 

“I’m sorry. I-” Andy looked around, trying to find Doug. 

“Andy? Is everything ok?” The blonde asked, pulling the brunette closer again. 

Stepping back from their embrace, Andy looked everywhere except at Louise. “Yeah, I’m fine! I-, I’m sorry. I have to go.” 

Spinning on her heel, the brunette rushed off, bumping and pushing through the bodies on the dancefloor. The cold night air hit her, biting her exposed skin but she welcomed the sensation, awakening her mind and senses. She didn’t stop walking until she was a block away from the club. Leaning her back against a wall, curling her arms over her middle, she started to deeply breathe in and slowly out, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. 

_ What the fuck just happened?!!  _

_ Why did I do that?! Kiss her like that?!  _

_ And why did I-…?  _

_ Why did I like it so much?  _

_ God, I fucking loved it, but I don’t.  _

_ I fucking hate it, but I don’t.  _

_ What the fuck’s wrong with me?  _

_ Does-, does this mean that I’m gay? Or bi? Or whatever?  _

_ And why-…?  _

_ Why can’t I help but wonder-…, what Miranda would taste like?  _

_ Would her lips be as soft as Louise’s?  _

_ Or softer?  _

_ Warmer?  _

_ How would her lips move against mine?  _

_ Would she bite like-  _

_ What?!!  _

_ What the heck am I thinking?!  _

_ Of course, she wouldn’t!  _

_ She’d never kiss me.  _

_ Fuck, she’ll never kiss me...  _

_ She’ll never...  _

_ She’ll never want me.  _

_ But I-…  _

_ I want her.  _

_ I want her.  _

Tears started to roll down the brunette’s flushed cheeks and she looked up at the darkness of the night’s sky. 

_ I want Miranda Priestly.  _

_ But she’ll never want me. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a rather short chapter, my apologies!  
> But I hope you'll like it!

The brunette woke up with a groan and buried her face into her lumpy pillow. Her feet hurt, her head pounding, and she had a foul taste in her dry mouth. Rolling onto her back, she slowly blinked her eyes open, letting them rest on a crack in the ceiling. 

_ Has that crack gotten bigger? _ The young woman mused drily. 

_ An accurate reflection of my soul, no doubt.  _

_ God, I’m hopeless. _

Slowly she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, staring at a stain on the wall opposite her. 

_ Has that always been there?  _

_ Ha! An accurate reflection of the stain Miranda has left on my soul, no doubt.  _

_ God, I’m so fucking hopeless.  _

Getting up, the brunette strolled towards the bathroom. After relieving herself, she stripped out of her underwear, gathered her toothbrush and toothpaste, and walk into the shower. 

She brushed her teeth as she let the hot water hit her neck and shoulders, loosening the sore, tense muscles. After washing off last night’s sweat and alcohol from her hair and body, she stepped out of the shower and placed her toothbrush back into the cup on the sink. Hesitantly, she looked up and stared at herself in the mirror. 

The young woman staring back looked like a stranger to her. She didn’t recognize the dull, somber look in her hazel eyes. With lacking effort, she tried smiling at herself, already knowing it wouldn’t reach her eyes. Shaking her head in condescension, she left the bathroom and went to put on a pair of baggy sweatpants and her old Northwestern sweater. Foregoing breakfast, the brunette switched on the coffee machine and pushed herself up onto the counter facing the window. 

_ What am I going to do?  _

_ What  _ **_ can  _ ** _ I do?  _

She looked down and watched her legs swaying underneath her. Hearing the beeping signal from the coffee machine, the brunette slid off the counter and set about in making a latte by simply adding some milk from a carton. 

_ Definitely not a center-of-the-sun latte for me, thank you very much.  _

_ Seriously, how can she drink something that hot and not burn her tongue?  _

_ Nothing about her makes any sense.  _

Sitting down on her couch, the young woman languidly sipped from her mug, staring at her blurry reflection on the tv-screen. 

_ How did I get here?  _

_ Fallen for a woman who’s never even been nice to me.  _

_ I don’t understand how that even happen in the first place?  _

_ She’s almost twice my age, vile, and hates me.  _

_ And yet, I want her.  _

_ But why?  _

_ Why do I feel as I do?  _

_ Why do I want her?  _

_ I need to figure that out.  _

_ I need to...  _

_ Write.  _

_ You’re a writer, aren’t you, Andy?  _

_ Yes.  _

_ I need to write.  _

Getting up from the couch, the young woman walked back into the kitchen and placed her empty mug in the sink. Grabbing a pen and notebook out of her purse, she sat down at her small dining table, opened up her notebook to a blank page, and poised the hand holding the pen over it. Once its tip connected with the paper, the brunette lost herself into a stream of consciousness. 

***

_What is it that you do to me?_  
_What have you done to have made me feel this way?_  
_I close my eyes, and all I see are blue eyes staring back at me._  
_Those eyes, oh, what they do to me..._

_As cold as the arctic._  
_Chilling me, making me shiver to the bone._  
_Freezing me into frozen numbness with their cool intensity._  
_Wounding me with their wintry biting stings._  
_Awakening me with their icy sharpness._  
_Penetrating, piercing me with their frigid icicles,_  
_and now my soul is bleeding._

_As fiercely scorching as an inferno, burning me with their fiery intensity._  
_Their impassioned ferocity, igniting my dormancy in revelation._  
_Their blazing flaring fires inflaming my desires, illuminating the darkest hidden parts of me._  
_Their raging devilish wildfire incinerate all that I am,_  
_and now my soul has disintegrated into ashes._

_A hidden depth as deep as the ocean._  
_Drowning me, making me lose my breath._  
_Their distance so vast, as I cast away, adrift on the horizon._  
_Their bottom unreachable, concealing unknown deepness with their shadows lurking, swallowing me whole._  
_Their raging, storming waves crash into me, sweeping me away in their torrent, flooding me,_  
_and now the life that is my soul has decayed away._

_As rich as the most exquisite opals._  
_Their ethereal brilliance blinding me, leaving me unseeing in the darkness._  
_Their colors ever-changing, conveying wisdom and knowledge, a deeper understanding of the world they see, and yet, they do not see me._  
_Their vision all-seeing, and yet again, they do not see me, having left me unseeing in the darkness,_  
_and now my soul is lost by their refined purification, and will forever be polished clean of me._

_Miranda Priestly. Why has your existence forsaken me?_  
_What reasons have you given to have consumed my mind, body, and soul?_

_Is it in the way you carry yourself?_  
_How you emanate formidable elegance, always so confident, moving in celestial grace?_  
_Is it your unrivaled passion for beauty and perfection?_  
_The extraordinary way that you perceive the world?_  
_How you can see the appeal in the most insignificant smallest of things?_  
_How your genius artistry can mold from clay, breathe life into infinitesimal matter, and create unequaled magical brilliance?_

_Miranda Priestly. Why do you hide behind a façade?_  
_Why have you built your walls so high and thick?_

_I have glimpsed the woman that lay underneath._  
_A loving and protective nature, who would do everything within their power to not let any harm come to their children._  
_The vulnerable human that cares so deeply, that even tears have made their existence known, wetting beautiful cheeks._

_Miranda Priestly. You are not all-powerful._  
_Even you will need someone to rely on when faced with things you cannot handle alone._  
_Even you will need someone to share the heavy burden you carry on your shoulders._  
_Even you will need someone who will offer up their shoulder for you to cry on._  
_Even you will need someone who will love you forever, so your soul won’t drown in loneliness._

_And I know._

_My heart breaks with the knowledge, that I will never be that someone._

_And now I know._

_That I have fallen in love with Miranda Priestly._

***

_ And now I know. _ The brunette thought to herself. 

Setting down the pen, the young woman got up from her seat and walked over to the window. Thick and dark clouds colored the sky an ominous grey. She watched as a rain droplet landed on the window, rolling down a crinkling path, getting absorbed by another droplet, following a different crinkling path, getting absorbed once more, and crinkling down until it disappeared over the edge. 

_ I just watched myself, didn’t I?  _

_ I have fallen, have been consumed by her, and I will continue to fall a stumbling path until there’s nothing left of me.  _

A flash lit up the darkened obscure sky, fleetingly lightening up the brunette’s face. A moment later came the crackling sound before the booming thunder. 

_ No.  _

The young woman turned around and strode off to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she put on her running shoes and tied up her hair. 

As she left the apartment building, the brunette started to run through the heavy downpour. Going on and on, not knowing how much time was passing, she continued to run, letting the rain wash over her in a cold, cleansing revitalization. The longer she felt her heart rapidly beating in her chest, the more reenergizing she felt, charging her in fortitude. 

_ No.  _

_ I won’t be dragged down by anyone.  _

_ That's not who I am.  _

_ I'm Andy fucking Sachs, God damn it!  _

_ I can do anything.  _

_ I will overcome everything.  _

_ I won’t fall.  _

_ I will climb.  _

_ I’ll fucking climb.  _

_ Until I’ve reached the top.  _

_ I love Miranda Priestly.  _

_ But I will not let it break me.  _

_ She will not break me.  _

_ I can’t be broken.  _

_ Not even by her.  _

_ Try as she might.  _

_ She won’t succeed.  _

_ But I will.  _

_ I’ll leave her no choice.  _

_ She’ll see me.  _

_ I’ll make her see me.  _

_ And I won’t care when she does.  _

_ Because I’ll have reached the top.  _

_ Because I’m Andy  _ **_ fucking  _ ** _ Sachs.  _

_ And I  _ **_ can  _ ** _ do anything.  _

*** 

After taking another shower, this time at lightning speed instead of the previous languid one. The young woman redressed, started up her laptop, and began searching high and low for all kinds of different consequential subjects she could write about. With her revived spirits all fired up, the brunette scribbled down, crossed out, underlined, and encircled in her notebook.

Researching to such an extent, the young journalist graduate started to grow confident in her abilities, convinced that she will in no doubt finish up writing down several articles by the end of the weekend. Her mind whirled with ideas as she fell into a steady pattern of searching, reading, and writing, nearly combusting with inspiration. 

Gone was the dull and somber look in her hazel eyes of this morning, or the forced smile that didn’t reach her eyes. In their place were bright glistening eyes, and a lingering face-splitting grin. 

The journalist graduate hardly slept, too excited and too frenzied to rest. By late Sunday evening, feeling profoundly proud of herself, she’d finished several articles that were some of the best writings she’d ever done. Fishing out her wallet from her purse, she extracted all the business cards she’d collected from various editors or people who knew people she had met at meetings and events she’d attended over the past year in service of Runway. The brunette fired off emails, attached with her articles, to the addresses from the business cards and to several she knew by heart from having sent out countless before, on a daily basis. 

Crashing down on her bed, well past midnight, and suddenly feeling utterly exhausted, the young woman’s lights fell out within the blink of an eye. A deep, contently peaceful sleep hadn’t allowed the brunette to realize that she had, since her run, completely forgotten about a certain silver-haired woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	8. Chapter 8

“Emily.” The cool, soft voice of the silver-haired editor floated through the outer office. 

The redhead jumped out from her seat and strode into the Devil’s lair, with such familiar ease, proving she’d done it a million times before. Not acknowledging the call made to the first assistant, Andy continued responding to an email, until she noticed the frosted glass door, separating the two offices, closing. The brunette stared at the door in wonder, never having seen it being closed before. Rumor has it that it had only happened in extremely rare circumstances. 

At first glance, it seemed like the editor didn’t care about what her employees did, her indifferent look fleeting over her minions with feigned disinterest and boredom. But Andy knew better, knowing Miranda always kept a meticulously watchful gaze on what went on within the walls of her kingdom. She kept a close eye on everyone, always watching over shoulders as she focused on discerning incompetent qualities in her staff. She stored what she found out as ammunition in her arsenal, ready to strike, and consequently fire, using people’s faults and failures as her weapons to make her even more acrimoniously vicious. Upon being caught or sniffed out, privacy was a non-existent concept when an unfortunate soul found themselves ensnared in the Devil’s trap. They had no choice but to accept the consequences of their deficiency and receive their relentless punishment accordingly, their downfall on display for everyone to hear or see, and to be used to set an example. 

The brunette felt anxious and was concerned for the redhead. Knowing Miranda’s unrivaled unpredictability, Andy couldn’t even begin to figure out what might be happening within the walls of the inner office. 

After what seemed like an eternity but could only have been a couple of minutes, the door opened, and a seemingly hollow shell that was Emily Charlton walked out. Her green eyes wide in a daze, staring ahead but not seeing anything, her mouth slightly hanging open. She stopped walking when she stood in the middle of the space between their desks, right in front of the brunette. Andy watched her, waited for a minute, and when it seemed like the redhead wasn’t about to snap out of her stupor anytime soon, she tried to catch her attention. 

“Emily?” The brunette whispered. 

“Emily.” She tried again when the first attempt had gone unnoticed. 

The first assistant blinked, life returning in her green eyes. Andy watched as a myriad of emotions flitted across the Brit’s face. From confusion to bewilderment, then to disbelief. From disbelief to realization, then again to disbelief. The redhead scrunched her face together and shook her head at herself and then suddenly, the most real, and biggest smile Andy had ever seen on Emily’s face lit up the entire room, leaving her completely baffled at the sight. 

“What’s going on?” Andy asked, dying to know. 

The redhead turned to face her, placed her hands on her hips, and stuck out her chin in an imperial manner. 

“I’m out of here.” Emily sniffed in that haughty way she does. 

“What? You’re fired?” Andy asked in shock. 

“Of course, not. I’m moving on, naturally. She’s sending me to the art department.” 

“She did?! You are?!” 

“Obviously. You’re looking at the new junior art director.” Having said the words out loud, a look of disbelief appeared on her face once more. 

“Oh, my God. Em, that's great! Congratulations!” Andy grinned at her, feeling over the moon for the redhead. 

Emily snapped out of her stupor again, a look of pure and honest joy beautifying her face. “Thank you.” She said and proceeded to giggle. 

“Andréa.” 

As if being hit by a jolt of electricity, both assistants jumped, and scurried off, as if their asses were on fire, to their respective functions. For several long moments, Andy stood in front of the glass desk, waiting for the editor to acknowledge her as she continued to type on her laptop, pretending as if Andy didn’t even exist. The brunette hated this, the feeling of being played with, being Miranda’s plaything of a minion, to make fun of for her own wicked amusement, toying with whenever she pleases. Nevertheless, the brunette used the moment to let her eyes scan over every detail of the silver-haired woman. The always flawlessly styled silver coif. Slightly frowning, perfectly shaped eyebrows. Examining the tightness around those dooming arctic blues. Fashionable reading glasses resting on an aristocratic nose, exquisitely sculpted high cheekbones, and sharply strong jawline and chin. Lingering on enticingly luscious pink lips. Lost in the moment, hazel eyes descended, caressing over a long pale neck complementing a set of beautiful chain necklaces, appreciating the smooth skin of imperial slender shoulder revealed by an off-the-shoulder beige blouse, and noticing the tension the muscles held. Trailing over collarbones and down, skimming over the neckline’s edges of the surplice front, and resting at the point of the v, announcing the beginning of a delectable valley. 

The Dragon Lady was without a doubt the most beautiful woman Andy had ever seen. 

Distracted by alluring round mounds, her mouth started to water and she felt her body heat up. Movement snapped the brunette out of her lust-filled daze, and jerked her back up, trying with an all-mighty effort to not let the dreadfulness she felt, appear on her face. The editor observed her over the rim of her glasses, her face as stoic and indecipherable as ever, but with arctic-turned-opal eyes. In an instant, Andy felt their familiar static tension hum between them. The last time she was enveloped by the sensations of their electrical buzzing connection, she had let it charge her, reinforce and fortify her. This time, she felt it drain her spirits, deplete her vitality as she relived the recognition that the silver-haired woman would never return her feelings. 

Miranda sat back in her chair and took off her glasses, eyes never leaving Andy’s. “Call HR, find and train a suitable replacement for you. Preferably someone less skittish than Emily, and less quirky than you. God knows we already have enough nervous and irritating conductivity going around here. I need them competent in two weeks. Have my lunch delivered at noon, that dish with the grilled bell peppers. Reschedule or cancel whatever you can, or sent Nigel. I don’t care how you do it, just make sure I’m home at four.” 

“Yes, Miranda.” The brunette responded automatically, but without her usual smile. 

The editor regarded her for another moment, then stood up gracefully and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her desk, back turned to the young assistant. She crossed her arms over her middle, almost as if in a consolatory gesture, thoughtfully gazing out the window, seeming to be lost to the world. 

The somewhat subdued behavior had the brunette worrying, pondering about the tension around Miranda’s eyes and shoulders. Miranda had still very much been the same scorching Dragon Lady all morning, and yet, Andy now realized that the older woman seemed tenser, stressed seemed to be more of a suitable explanation, which was something highly unusual. Miranda Priestly simply didn’t stress, always appearing to be cool and collected and if not that, irritable or resentful, but never stressed. 

The young assistant deliberately considered what the reasons might be for her boss’ peculiar demeanor. She thought about the on-going divorce being the cause. Maybe her soon-to-be ex-husband was being an inconvenience throughout the proceedings. Somehow, that didn’t seem to be the right puzzle piece. The silver-haired woman only seemed irritably impatient that things weren’t moving fast enough and had never shown any signs that the divorce affected her emotionally. Not even in Paris. The divorce-papers being faxed to her in the middle of Fashion Week hadn’t been the cause for the editor’s red-rimmed eyes and defeated demeanor. No, it had been about the heartbreak of losing another father-figure for her girls, but most of all, having to subject the twins to the cruelty of the hounding press once again.

Suddenly, the missing puzzle piece fell into place within Andy’s mind. They could be the only reason why the editor seemed to be out of sorts today, the only people in this entire world that could affect the editor emotionally. Growing worried herself, the brunette sent out a silent prayer to any deity that might exist that nothing bad had happened to the little redheads. Andy’s heart went out to the silver-haired woman, feeling tormented about the possibility of something being wrong with the twins’ welfare. She felt the urgent need to do something, anything. Wanting, no, needing to do something to try and help Miranda in any way she could. Her mind made up, Andy ventured forward, daring to poke the Dragon and possibly invoke its wrath. 

“Miranda?” The brunette asked hesitantly. 

The editor flinched slightly, seeming to have forgotten about Andy’s presence in her office. 

“Uhm, are you o-, I mean, is there something-, anything I can do for you?” Drawing up her shoulders, Andy prepared herself for the Dragon to attack.

But the young woman wasn’t being burned by breathing fire. It was more silence that was forthcoming. After another moment, the editor responded, her voice barely audible. 

“I-…” Miranda let out a heavy sigh, imperial slender shoulders slightly slumping. “No. That’s all, Andréa.” 

Andy hesitantly debated if she should try to push forward and reach out to the older woman in any shape or form, but chose to not try her luck any further than she’d already had done and reluctantly left the inner office. 

Sitting at her desk, the young assistant tried to refocus back on her work but her mind continued to drift back to thoughts about Miranda’s stress and her worry for the twins. Knowing herself with her imperative need to know all the answers and solve every problem, the assistant forwent the editor’s statement to not meddle with her personal life. She knew it was inevitable that she wouldn’t be able to let sleeping dogs lie, so Andy set out to get the answers to her questions. 

Opening a new draft on her email, the brunette sent out a message to the twins. 

From:  [ Andrea_Sachs@runway.com ](mailto:AndreaSachs@runway.com)

To:  [ Caroline_Priestly@dalton.com ](mailto:Caroline_Priestly@dalton.com) ,  [ Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com ](mailto:Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com)

Subject: ‘Sup twin terrors? 

Heya kiddos! 

Been a while since I last saw you guys. How’ve you been doing? 

Whatever happened with that boy you had a crush on, Care? 

And did you get your grades for that book report you were so excited about, Cass? 

Y’know, and only if you want to, of course. I wouldn’t mind it if you guys kept me updated with what’s going on in your lives? 😀 

I may or may not be missing our secretive hushed convos! 😉 

Please know that you may always reach out to me if you wanna talk about stuff. 

Anyways, 

I hope you’re both doing ok! 

See ya! 

Andy 

*** 

The young woman placed a mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table and settled down on her couch with her laptop on her lap. Opening up her inbox, the brunette saw she received several new emails within the timespan of leaving work to deliver the Book and getting home. Most of them were work-related, giving them not even a lingering thought as she was off the clock, and because there were only three emails that really caught her attention. One from the Daily Mirror and two from the twins. Andy read the ones from the twins first. 

From:  [ Caroline_Priestly@dalton.com ](mailto:Caroline_Priestly@dalton.com)

To:  [ Andrea_Sachs@runway.com ](mailto:Andrea_Sachs@runway.com)

Subject: Re: ‘Sup twin terrors? 

What’s up you dork?! Don’t you have any friends to talk with? Instead of a couple of kids? 

(I didn’t mean that) 

(Or maybe I did) 

(Guess you’ll never know huh?) 😀 

I didn’t have a crush on Timothy! He’s such a loser! He’s dating Becca and she’s like, a total bitch! Can you believe that?! 

I think I like Vic now. He’s sorta quiet though, kinda like Edward. Y’know the vamp? He seems into old-timers. They’re cars FYI. If you didn’t know that, then never mind. But if you somehow do, what can you tell me about them?

Aaanyway... 

I’m fine. School’s fine. 

See ya later ‘gator! 

Y’know who this is from my address. 

In case you’re too stupid to figure that out, it’s Care, y’know, the cool twin. 

Bye! 

Andy laughed as she shook her head, thinking that girl was definitely something else. Then she read Cassidy’s message. 

From:  [ Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com ](mailto:Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com)

To:  [ Andrea_Sachs@runway.com ](mailto:Andrea_Sachs@runway.com)

Subject: Re: ‘Sup twin terrors? 

Hey Andy! 

Thanks for your message. It’s good to hear from you! I’ve missed our talks as well. 

I hope you’re doing alright, hope mom’s not giving you too much trouble at work? 

I got an A+ on my paper! Ms. Wardwell said it was my best work yet! Thanks for your suggestions, they’ve been a great help! We’re doing Animal Farm next, it’s a great book so far! Have you read it? 

Did Care respond to you yet? If she told you that she’s fine, she’s not. I guess we’re not, not really. 

She and mom got into a big fight yesterday, and things have been a little tense since. Care is so angry all the time, she even lashes out at me when I’m not even doing anything. It’s so unfair! And mom, I don’t really know. She hasn’t said much since their fight. I don’t really know what she’s thinking, but she does seem a little sad. That’s understandable, of course. Care said she’d rather go live with dad than with her. Which is a total lie! She hates it at dad’s, and so do I. It’s so boring and his girlfriend can’t even tell us apart, it’s been over a year! She’s really dumb. 

Anyway, 

I don’t really know what to do... I don’t want Care to be so angry all the time, but she just can’t help herself. She doesn’t understand how demanding mom’s job is, or about her laser-focus. I miss her too, y’know, but at least she’s been home for dinner since Stephen’s left. She just doesn’t talk much, y’know? 

And I don’t want mom to be sad, but I don’t know what I can do about that. I never even thought mom could be sad since Care yelled at her. And now, no one’s talking, and it’s making me sad as well. 

I really wish I could see you, Andy. I really liked talking to you last time. I did what you said. Really asked her to listen to me. It worked! We sat on the couch and I told her about a kid that’s been bullying me at school. She basically said that I’m Cassidy effing Priestly, the smartest kid my age and that any other mean kid at school doesn’t matter, that I’m worth more than anyone else, except for Care. I know she loves us equally. The kid stopped bullying me however, I think she made a call to his parents. She can be really scary sometimes, yknow?! 

Anyway, 

I’m rambling. 

Hope you’re ok, Andy! 

See ya! 

Cassidy 

The brunette’s heart went out to the little girl. Thinking her to be too smart for her own good for a ten-year-old, and overly sensitive, much like herself in that way. Caroline was definitely a different type of overly sensitive. She recognized a lot of Miranda in them. The cool and collectiveness in Cassidy, and the fierce and boldness in Caroline. They were like total opposites but perfectly complemented each other. 

At least now Andy knew what the reason was that had been bothering the silver-haired woman today. But now that she knew the cause, she didn’t know what she could do about it. Interfering with an issue of this magnitude went way beyond meddling in personal affairs. If Miranda were to ever find out about this, the fallout would undeniably be catastrophic. Nevertheless, the brunette just couldn’t put the matter to rest. If she couldn’t help the editor, then she could at least try and help the twins in any shape or form. 

From:  [ Andrea_Sachs@runway.com  ](mailto:Andrea_Sachs@runway.com)

To:  [ Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com  ](mailto:Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com)

Subject: Re: Re: ‘Sup twin terrors? 

Heya Cass! 

I’m doing great, thanks for asking! Things are pretty wild at work, meaning everything's pretty much the same ol’, same ol’. Emily’s moving on though. Your mom promoted her today, which means I’m being promoted as well to the first assistant, not that it changes the job much really. But it’s still good news! 

I’m so proud of you, kiddo! For getting that A+! I’m sure your paper must’ve been superb! 

I did read Animal Farm, I think it’s a great book as well. If you ever have any questions about it, be sure to ask me, I’d be happy to help! 

Your sister did respond already. It didn’t seem like something was wrong, she didn’t mention anything about the fight. I guess she just doesn’t want to talk about it, at least not with me. Seems like she’s not the type to talk about her feelings, is she? I know it’s none of my business but I do wish that I can help her in any way. 

And that unquestionably means you too, Cass. 

Once again, you’ve been really brave in expressing your feelings, kiddo. I’m really proud of you! I truly wish there was something I could do to make you feel better. Care and your mom included, but it’s not really my place to talk to them. Not really my place to talk to you either, but I really like talking to you, I just can’t seem to help myself. I hope that’s ok? 

Have you tried talking with your sister? I know she’s pretty stubborn, much like your mom if you ask me. 😛 But the only way to resolve anything is to talk about it. I know it’s difficult sometimes, and that you sometimes rather not do it because you might feel a little unsure about the situation. But I know you to be really brave, and exactly like your mom said, you are without a doubt the smartest kid your age! I’m sure you can figure something out with your sister. 

As for your mom, I must admit, that one’s a bit more difficult. I don’t really know her that well, outside of work anyway. Like I told you last time, she doesn’t really like me so it’s not like I can just talk to her like I can with you and Care. All I can suggest is that you talk with her as well, not necessarily about the fight, but about your day, the book you’re reading, or ask her about her day and if she scared anyone, I’m sure she’ll like that. 😀 You can try doing something nice for her as well? Make one of your drawings perhaps? I know you’ve got a real knack for art, and she loves art. 

Anyway, I’m just thinking off the top of my head here. You know your family much better than I ever will. So, just do what feels right to you. You can’t do anything wrong with just being yourself, sweetie. 

Anyway, 

I’m rambling. 

I hope things will lighten up soon! It’s been great hearing from you. 

See ya, kiddo! 

Andy 

From:  [ Andrea_Sachs@runway.com ](mailto:Andrea_Sachs@runway.com)

To: [Caroline_Priestly@dalton.com](mailto:Caroline_Priestly@dalton.com)

Subject: Re: Re: ‘Sup twin terrors? 

Heya Care! 

I DO have friends, thank you very much! I just like talking with you guys as well. Even if you are just a little brat. 

(I didn’t mean that) 

(Or maybe I did) 

(Guess you’ll never know huh?) 😀 

Nah, I definitely like you! 

Aren’t you a little too young to be using the b-word, Care? Or to be crushing on boys for that matter? Well, who am I to stop your lively spirit? Just do you, sweetie. Just make sure not to cuss around your mom. I don’t wanna get you into any trouble. Or be the one getting into trouble with your mom. Oh God, NO! Please, no! I’m not ready to die! Definitely don’t be doing any cussing around your mom or otherwise! 

I know they’re cars! I’m not an idiot, y’know. I just don’t really know anything about cars, so sorry, can’t help you out with that. 

Just don’t let that Vic kid turn you into a vampire. I don’t think you want to be stuck as a ten-year-old for your entire life now, do you? You’ll have to go to school for like, forever, y’know! Can you even imagine?! Doing homework eternally?! Gosh, that’d be horrible! 

Anyway, 

You sure you’re fine? It’s just that you’d usually go on and on and on and on if I ask you that question. 

It’s none of my business anyway, kid. I understand if you don’t wanna talk to me. I’m sure you have much cooler friends you can talk with. They’re lucky to have a kid like you to have as a friend! 

I don’t mean to prod, sweetie. Just know that I’m here if you need someone to talk to, alright? 

Anyway, 

I’m out, ‘bout to fall asleep on my old lumpy couch. Your mom sure wore me out at work today, any day really! 

Goodnight, kiddo! 

Andy 😛 

The brunette finished her last sip of her now, cold cocoa. There wasn’t anything else she could do for now. She hoped she hadn’t said anything wrong, or cause a misunderstanding. Knowing she was risking her life and limb by interfering in the twins’ life, and consequently her boss’ as well, which was a deadly territory. 

Andy yawned and stretched her back, feeling completely spent. Letting the matter of the twins and Miranda rest, for now, the young woman decided to open up the last email for the day. 

Reading its contents, the brunette felt her eyes widen in disbelief. It was a message from the assistant of Greg Hill, the editor-in-chief at the Daily Mirror, saying they wanted to use one of her articles but that she needed to come into their offices as soon as possible to discuss the matter and sign the necessary paperwork involved. 

Suddenly, Andy felt ecstatic and overjoyed. They’d like one of her articles and were considering publishing it. The young woman couldn’t believe it, feeling absolutely thrilled she sent off a response, saying that she’d call them first thing in the morning to set up a time for her to come in and discuss the matter further. 

Letting out another yawn, Andy closed down her laptop and went to prepare for bed. Once laying down, feeling utterly exhausted, she couldn’t stop the swirling thoughts in her head. They jumped from her worry about the twins to her prospects at the Daily Mirror. Her emotions wouldn’t settle, feeling concerned to excited, then feeling guilty about being excited, turned to distressing, left the brunette in turmoil. She lay tossing and turning for several long moments until a fitful and restless sleep had finally claimed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
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> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!!
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The next day at work found the brunette exchanging emails with the twins, always waiting to read and respond when the editor was out of the office for her paranoid fear of being caught by said editor. The last thing Andy needed was Miranda finding out that she’s conversing with her daughters, knowing how fiercely protective the older woman was of them. The young assistant didn’t even want to think what the repercussions would be if she’d be caught meddling again with the editor’s personal life. But most of all, she didn’t want to get the girls into trouble. 

The brunette knew that she shouldn’t be doing this. She knew she had no right, but subconsciously denied the wrongness of it all anyway. To an outsider, it wouldn’t make sense why the assistant liked to converse with her boss’ children. They’d think their growing relationship was out of the ordinary, and they wouldn’t be entirely wrong about it either. If the young woman really thought about it, she’d have to admit that it was definitely highly unusual. A grown woman talking to another woman’s couple of ten-year-olds without their mother knowing about it. Especially since they’re the children of none other than Miranda Priestly, the woman who seemed to hate her entire existence. She was merely an insignificant assistant, here to fetch and obey and not to think twice about the editor’s wants or needs unless it was about something work-related, and to simply do what was being asked of her. That unquestionably didn’t include that she should be meddling beyond the sacred boundaries of their workplace. 

Andy just couldn’t help herself, it wasn’t even entirely her fault that this had come to be. It was the twins after all who had reached out to the brunette after she’d given them the unpublished Harry Potter manuscripts. It was them who had come up to her late at night, well past their bedtime whilst she was delivering the Book and dry-cleaning. The young woman had never really given it any thought as to why they suddenly decided to talk to her. Why they waited up for her, sneaked and tiptoed down the staircase, and proceeded to tell her about their day. Andy was surprised that first nights they’d come down, and definitely worried about Miranda catching them. But after the second night, the young woman couldn’t deny she enjoyed listening to the twins’ shenanigans and the way they communicated, amusing her with that curious way how twins seemed to effortlessly finish each other's sentences or the way they knew exactly what the other was thinking by simply looking at each other. She loved getting to know them bit by bit, learning they each had their unique individual personalities, how they were so very much different from the other that their personalities didn’t seem to match, and yet, it was obvious that they were made for each other. 

With each encounter, the brunette felt herself growing rather fond and being enamored by them. So, Andy didn’t think talking with the twins was a strange occurrence. She’d like to think of them as her friends, albeit much younger, and she didn’t mind it one bit when Caroline was making fun of her, enjoying her witty and whimsical spirit, or adoring Cassidy’s gallant and considerate nature. 

She just hated the sneaking around part of it all and the feeling that she was doing something wrong. Andy also didn’t let herself acknowledge that because of the girls, she felt sort of closer to the silver-haired woman who had captured her heart. It also left her in a bit of turmoil, feeling guilty that she was doing something Miranda wouldn’t approve of and going behind her back. Nevertheless, she would risk the possibility of being banned from the Priestly women’s lives if it meant she could be of any sort of importance to them, however insignificant she was, or how short their time together would be. 

*** 

From:  [ Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com ](mailto:Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com)

To:  [ Andrea_Sachs@runway.com ](mailto:Andrea_Sachs@runway.com)

Subject: Re: Re: Re: ‘Sup twin terrors? 

Hi Andy! 

Congrats on your promotion! Does this mean that you’ll have to spend more time at mom’s side? Y’know, like going to shows, meetings, and all that stuff together? 

Oh, does that mean that you won’t be bringing the Book anymore? That would suck. 

Yeah, Care doesn’t like to talk about how she feels when she’s upset. Which is sort of strange, because she loves to talk. Seriously, she never shuts up! 

She simply bottles everything inside, and then she erupts and says things she doesn’t mean, and then feels bad about herself. She’s really stubborn. 

I tried talking with her several times to try and get her to open up, but she doesn’t take me seriously when I do. I don’t know why she does that. It’s frustrating. I know she loves me, but I want her to trust me as well. Well, I know she trusts me, I think she just doesn’t think that I can help her since I’m just a kid like her. That’s understandable, I guess. 

She’s acting really strange today. She’s hardly talking, which is so weird! She isn’t complaining in classes about how boring everything is, she isn’t cussing, she didn’t even acknowledge the boy she likes when he came up to her this morning. It’s seriously weirding me out! Then she got mad at me when I tried to cheer her up. For the first time in like, forever, I can’t tell what she’s thinking. I know she’s sad about her fight with mom but that’s it. She usually bounces right back after a fight. I hope you can figure out what’s wrong with her, Andy. I want my ridiculous sister back. 

I’ll make mom a painting during art class today, but I don’t know what yet. Do you know what she would like that would cheer her up? I don’t wanna do anything related to Runway. That’s just boring. I don’t want to cheer her up with more work stuff. I want something more personal, and I don’t wanna paint Patricia. I’ve done that too many times, it’s uninspiring and monotonous. (Did I spell that right?) 

I really don’t mind talking to you, Andy! I’m glad I have someone to talk with who doesn’t treat me like a child. 

And thanks for the advice! I’m off to English lit now. 

Bye! 

Cass 

* 

From:  [ Caroline_Priestly@dalton.com ](mailto:Caroline_Priestly@dalton.com)

To:  [ Andrea_Sachs@runway.com ](mailto:Andrea_Sachs@runway.com)

Subject: Re: Re: Re: ‘Sup twin terrors? 

I’d much rather shave my head and eat broccoli before I let Vic turn me into a vampire. Cars are boring anyway and so is he! I’d much rather be an evil witch and turn everyone into stinking toads. I’d use my magic to disappear from this stupid math class and go watch movies all day. Seriously, math sucks! 

You’re such a big dork, Andy! You can’t seriously think mom would kill you, do you? She’s all bark but no bite, y’know. But I’ll refrain from cussing around mom. She’s mad enough. So, you don’t have to worry about getting into trouble for encouraging me to cuss. But I’ll still do it whenever it pleases me when I’m not at home! D’you know any cool cuss words? Or are you too much of a boring goody two shoes to cuss? I’m thinking that you are... Care to prove me wrong? 

The cool twin 

* 

From:  [ Andrea_Sachs@runway.com  ](mailto:Andrea_Sachs@runway.com)

To:  [ Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com  ](mailto:Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com)

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: ‘Sup twin terrors? 

Thanks, kiddo! 

Huh, I hadn’t even thought of that. Yeah, I guess I’ll be spending more time at your mom’s side. Gosh, that’s a little scary to think about. Not that I’m scared of her, though she is pretty scary. I just hope she’ll at least try to tolerate my presence a little more. 😛 

And I guess that will eventually mean that I won’t be bringing the Book anymore. Haven’t thought of that either. But that won’t be for a while I’m guessing. Not until your mom deems the new second assistant worthy enough to take over that task. 

I’m sure going to miss seeing you guys when that’ll happen! 

Wow, a not talking Caroline, that’s definitely strange! She emailed me back though and rest assured, she’s still very much into cussing, and still complaining about how stupid math is. So, I guess that’s good right?! 

She does seem a little bitter though. She’s sort of acknowledged that your mom might still be mad at her. Nothing else, much. I wish I could talk to her, instead of doing this over email. But I don’t want you girls getting into trouble. I don’t think your mom’s gonna appreciate me talking to you guys. You know she’s very protective of you, and I certainly understand that. 

Anyway, 

I wouldn’t worry too much, sweetie. I know you’ll get your cheerful sister back in no time! It is Caroline, after all. It’s sweet that you do worry though. You’re a great sis, and a great friend as well. 

That’s a tough question, y’know. What would your mom like that’s not related to fashion? Gosh,… As I said, I don’t really know her that well. You’d be much better at figuring something out that she would like. You’re the creative one, after all. But I do know that what she loves most in this world is you guys! So, maybe a portrait of you and your sister? That’s all I can come up with really. Sorry, I can’t be of any more help to you with that one, Cass. 

Anyway, 

Your mom’s gonna be back soon! So, I gotta go and get some actual work done. 

Oh, and you did spell monotonous correct, good job! 

See ya! 

Andy 

* 

From:  [ Andrea_Sachs@runway.com  ](mailto:Andrea_Sachs@runway.com)

To:  [ Caroline_Priestly@dalton.com ](mailto:Caroline_Priestly@dalton.com)

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: ‘Sup twin terrors? 

Boring boys certainly won’t do now, would they?! 

Yeah, being a witch sounds pretty neat! I’d just enchant someone to do all my work for me. And I would be able to conjure up as many donuts as I’d like! (Don’t you dare make a fat-comment on that!) 

Oh, your mom has definitely got some bite! You should see her at work! She’s made grown men cry and nearly wet their pants on multiple occasions! If she were a dog, she’d definitely be a vicious furry beast like Patricia. 

And I did NOT, and I would NEVER, encourage you to cuss! Nor will I be teaching you new words for that matter. Are you trying to get me killed?! I’d much rather be a boring goody two shoes than dead, thank you very much! 

What’s this about your mom being mad? She did seem a little sad yesterday though, but certainly not mad, well, not more than usual anyway. But that’s just me, she’s always mad at me. So, I know how it is. 

Anyway, since I don’t have any magical powers, I’d better get some work done myself. 

See ya! 

The best assistant like, ever! 

* 

From:  [ Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com ](mailto:Cassidy_Priestly@dalton.com)

To:  [ Andrea_Sachs@runway.com ](mailto:Andrea_Sachs@runway.com)

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: ‘Sup twin terrors? 

Hi again! 

Maybe you can try and start talking to mom whenever you’re with her? Make her see you’re not a bad person, but really, really nice. Why does she dislike you so much anyway? It doesn’t make any sense... 

You’re always saying that I’m brave for opening up and talking about my feelings. Maybe you should try to be brave too and listen to your own advice. I know you’re brave too. No one else would dare speak to us if mom doesn’t want it, and yet, you do. 

Maybe she’ll like it. To have someone to talk with. Mom can be really funny y’know, and you like to laugh, don’t you? 

I hope the new second assistant will be dumb then! So, you’ll have to continue to bring the Book. 

Caroline’s back to cussing again! She just called Becca, a girl in our class the b-word, and the boy she’s with the a-word. It looked like she was mad, but I knew she was really sad. 

I don’t think mom’s still mad at her, just sad as well. They don’t know how to talk about it. They’re really dumb and stubborn if you ask me. 

I just finished my painting. That was a great idea, Andy! It was sort of weird to paint myself though. I hope she’ll like it. 

Anyway, 

I’ve got to go. School’s almost out and I have a bunch of homework to do when I get home. 

See ya! 

Cass 

*** 

“Have the run-through be here in ten minutes and get me my coffee.” The editor nearly snarled, announcing her presence as she walked into the outer office from her meeting with Irv. 

Surprised by Miranda’s sudden appearance, the assistant jumped in her seat, nearly falling off the chair, and quickly closed the email-tab on her computer. Grabbing her phone and coat, she scurried out of the office, sent off a text to the Starbucks across the street, and proceeded to call Nigel to let him know that Miranda’s expecting them in her office nearly two hours sooner than was planned. 

When the brunette returned, scorching cup in hand, everyone was in position and they were about to begin. Andy handed over the coffee to Miranda’s outstretched hand. Their fingers brushed and the assistant felt a light tingle move up her arm. She pulled back as if she’d been burned and hastily went back to her desk to retrieve her notepad and pen. 

Observing as Miranda and her staff worked, she let her gaze linger on the older woman. The editor had been in and out of the office all day, barely present for more than a minute. As subtly as the brunette could, she examined Miranda. The silver-haired woman wore a marvelous pinstripe power suit today with 4,5-inch dark red Prada stilettos. No doubt as her chosen armor to intimidate Mr. Ravitz while they discussed the next issue’s budget. The blouse she wore under the jacket was a blood-red color as well, unbuttoned to show the beginning of that delectable valley again. Unconsciously, the young assistant licked her lips as she felt her body heat up. The older woman emanated confidence and authority, but to Andy, it screamed of sexual domination. The brunette’s mind screeched to a halt. This was definitely not the time to be thinking of her boss in a sexual way. Not with all these people around. She shouldn’t be thinking about that, permanently. But Miranda wasn’t making it easy for her. The editor stood, posture poised all high and mighty, but it was what she was doing with her hand that drove the assistant to heated distraction. One hand holding the elbow of her arm right under her breasts, while the other hand’s middle finger was leisurely caressing back and forth from one end of a collarbone to the other. 

_ Oh, what I wouldn’t give for my tongue to replace that finger. _ The brunette feverishly mused. Her mind screeched to a halt once more. 

_ What the FUCK, Andy! Get yourself together, you fool! _ __

The young assistant tried with a mighty effort to focus back on the run-through, forcing her eyes to look at the clothes instead of her boss. But it was as if Miranda was a powerful magnet, pulling in hazel eyes against their will. Thankfully another distraction came that had the editor move out of her field of vision, or so the young woman thought. 

The silver-haired woman moved towards her desk to check her phone and see who was calling her directly instead of the assistants’ desk first. 

“Out.” Came the silent but threatening command. 

Andy was the last person to leave the inner office and heard Miranda answer the phone. 

“Hello, Bobbsey. Is everything alright? How was school?” 

Before turning to sit behind her desk, the brunette saw Miranda walking over the floor-to-ceiling window to be out of hearing range from the outer office. But the movement was in vain when she heard the editor raise her voice slightly louder than Andy had ever heard it before. 

“What?! Why? Why would y-” The editor stopped, seeming to be cut off by one of the twins. 

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Caroline.” She lightly threatened. 

The assistant couldn’t help herself, her curiosity got the better of her as she fine-tuned her hearing to listen as to what Miranda was saying. Thinking that Caroline certainly seemed to have a knack for interrupting her mother when she was speaking. 

“Care to explain to me as to why y-” 

“It certainly is my business, young lady. I have a right to kn-” 

“Is that so? And what makes you think that I’ll-” 

“Caroline, just tell me wh-” 

“Oh, for God’s sake, fine! But you and I are going to talk when I get-” 

“Alright, fine! Hold on.” 

“Andréa.” 

The brunette’s eyes widened, eyebrows nearly sky-rocketing off her forehead, and she felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. A dreadful cold sweat crept up her back as she felt frozen to her seat. 

“Andréa.” Came the impatient irritation-laced voice again, making the younger woman jump into fearful action. 

Andy walked into the inner office and wanted nothing more in the entire world than to turn back around and flee from the building as she saw Miranda looking at her with a murderous intensity in her arctic blue eyes. The older woman stretched out her arm and offered her phone to the young assistant, but said nothing else. She just stared at her, as if trying with her gaze to set the younger woman ablaze. Andy reached out with a trembling hand and took the phone from her boss, apprehensively holding it to her ear. 

“Hi, kiddo?” The brunette timidly asked, averting her eyes from the silver-haired woman. 

“Hey, Andy. You got a minute? I asked mom if we could talk. She said it’s fine.” 

Andy had absolutely no idea how Caroline could even think that Miranda would even find this remotely ‘fine’. 

“Uhm, Sure. What’s up? How was school?” Andy tried to engage in casual conversation as she moved past Miranda and towards the windows, looking out over the New York skyline. 

“Boring as hell. Anyway, I don’t wanna talk about school. I wanna follow up on your email.” The girl sternly said, in a tone saying that this matter wasn’t up for discussion. 

The brunette closed her eyes, hoping against hope that the kid didn’t mean she wanted to talk about her mother with Miranda right in the same room as her. She wouldn't mind if the ground beneath her would suddenly open up and swallow her whole.

“Alright, sure. What do y-” Andy began but was interrupted. 

“Y’said mom seemed sad yesterday. How could you tell?” 

“Oh, well, I don’t know. I just could. I saw it in the little things, y’know?” Andy tried to sound as elusive as she could, not wanting the editor to figure out they were talking about her. 

“Riiight, well. You also said she’s always mad at you. Why’s that?” Caroline pressed further, seemingly dead set on getting an answer. 

“Uhm, sh-, it, just is. I don’t really know why. Well, I used to, but now, not so much.” 

“Is she there? Is that why you’re being all weird, more than usual?” The girl inquired. 

“Yeah.” Andy sighed, pressing her hand to her forehead. 

“Well, can’t you go somewhere else? I wanna talk about this. Y’said I could talk to you. So, move or something?” 

Caroline sounded frustrated, perhaps at her mother for not giving them any privacy. But what did she expect, really? For her boss to happily sit her down on the couch and bring over biscuits and tea so they could chat and gossip like this was completely normal as if they did this every day? The girl was definitely something else. Andy turned her head around to look at Miranda, who stood several steps behind her, blocking the path towards the door. Hands on her hips and fiery eyes burning into Andy’s, seemingly intent to not let the young assistant out of her sights. 

“No, seems like I don’t have much of a choice.” The brunette responded, shaking her head. 

“Oh, shit, well, sucks to be you then.” Caroline huffed. 

“You should really try and tone down that vocabulary, Care.” The brunette warned lightly, running a hand through her hair. 

Andy heard the girl sniff and heard her say, “Don’t wanna. I think it suits me.” 

“Well, I beg to differ. But if you must, then at least try and be more creative.” The brunette said, trying for a different approach on the matter. 

“Like how?” The girl questioned curiously. 

“Like being inventive, be ingenious about it. You don’t just want to sound like everyone else, right? That stuff gets boring pretty easily, y’know. I know you’re a bright kid. So, what d’ya say? You wanna try and be original?” 

“Oh, you’re on! You, donut-hole!” Caroline challenged. 

“Oh, dear God.” Andy giggled. “What have I done?” 

“See! You are encouraging me to cuss!” The girl giggled conspiringly. 

“I’m doing no such thing, young lady!” Andy chuckled. “Quite the opposite really.” 

“Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.” Caroline laughed humorously, and the sound made the brunette’s heart light up. “Anyway, so mom. Why is she mad at you?” 

And her heart sank again. She didn’t know how she could openly talk about the issue with the subject of the conversation standing right behind her. The young woman wanted with all her heart to help Caroline and talk about her troubles but didn’t know if she could right now. Then suddenly, Cassidy’s last email came to mind. Telling her that she should just try and talk about her feelings. That she should try and be brave too concerning Miranda. Listening to her own advice coming from the smartest kid she knew, the brunette proceeded to do just that. 

“Well, I can’t say for sure, but my guess is it’s because of something I’ve done a couple of months ago.” 

“What did you do?” Curiosity laced the girl’s voice. 

“I think I might’ve broken her trust in me.” Andy admitted hesitantly. 

“Are you talking about you leaving her in Paris?” The girl queried knowingly. 

Feeling baffled, the brunette asked. “Wha-? How did you-? Did she tell you about that?” 

“No, not really. She’d sort of grumbled about it to herself while we were watching a movie a while back. She was reading something from work on her phone.” Caroline explained. 

“Oh, well, that’s-, yeah. I think I really disappointed her that day. Why are you asking me about this, anyway?” Andy started to feel unsure, she didn’t really understand why they were talking about her problems with Miranda instead of the girl’s issue. 

“I-, I think I might’ve disappointed her as well.” Caroline admitted timidly. 

“Why do you think that?” The brunette inquired softly. 

Sounding upset, the little girl admitted. “I said something to her, but I didn’t mean it. She got really upset.” 

“And what has that got to do with me?” 

“You said she’s mad at you. You upset her. What are you doing to make her forgive you?” The girl said, sternly stating the facts. 

Realization dawned on the brunette. “Oh, I see now. Have you tried apologizing to her?” 

“Have you?” Caroline retaliated defensively. 

Andy sighed, running her hand through her hair for the umpteenth time. “Well, yes. I told her I was sorry right after I left her.” 

Sounding incredulous, the girl fired off questions. “But she’s  _ still  _ mad at you? After  _ all  _ this time?  _ Why _ ? Why hasn’t she forgiven you yet?” 

“Unfortunately, she still is, yeah. But I think she did sort of strangely forgave me though. I’m not really sure. She didn’t fire me back then, so that’s something, I guess. But that doesn’t mean she trusts me. I’ve been trying though, to make her see that I’d do anything for her, uhm, I mean, so she’ll trust me again. I guess she just needs time to see that. But, sweetie. I’m in an entirely different position than you. I’m just her assistant. I hold no real meaning in her life. But you’re her daughter. You mean everything to her. I’m sure that if you’d just apologize to your mom for whatever it is that you said to her, she’d forgive you in no time.” 

After a silent pause, the girl timidly admitted. “I said I’d rather live with dad than with her. Which isn’t true, Andy! I don’t know why I said that. I was being really childish.” 

Feeling her heart go out to the little girl, Andy tried to reassure her. “Tell her that, sweetie. I’m positive she’ll understand. She loves you, no matter what, ok? Don’t be afraid to talk to her. It wouldn’t do only her any good, but you as well. It’s necessary to express your feelings, Care. If you keep things bottled up, you’ll end up lashing out and say things you don’t mean. Do you get that?” 

Caroline sighed loudly over the phone. “Yeah, I do. You’re right. It’s not that easy for me. I’m not like Cass. She always knows what she’s feeling. It just takes me a little longer to figure stuff out, y’know?” 

Smiling tenderly, the brunette placed her hand against the reflection of her face on the window and leaned her forehead against it. She completely forgot about Miranda’s presence in the room for a moment. “I get that, kiddo. But you have a wonderful, loving sister to talk to and navigate whatever it is that you might be feeling. And a very brilliant and wise mother, who loves you unconditionally and who’ll always be there for you. And you’ve got me as well, kid. I promise I’ll always be there for you, if you need help or simply want to chat, I’m here. Don’t doubt any of that, alright sweetheart?” 

“Ok. Thank you, Andy.” The little girl sounded sincerely grateful. 

“You’re very welcome, Caroline. Are you feeling any better now?” 

“Yeah, I am. I’ll talk to mom when she gets home. Will you tell her that for me?” 

The assistant blinked, remembering the editor’s presence. “Of course, kiddo.” 

“Thanks again. Bye, Andy.” 

“Bye, Care.” 

The young woman hung up the phone and stared down at the black screen, feeling completely lost all of a sudden. She was glad that she was able to help the troubled girl, but now that she was back in her own reality, she didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face the editor. But she knows she has to, she has to give the phone back, has to relay Caroline’s message, has to probably explain herself, but wasn't sure if she was still working for her. The assistant has no choice but to turn around and meet her doom. So, she did, like ripping off a band-aid. Andy slowly turned around and walked towards the older woman, not daring to look her in the eye. With an unsteady hand, she held out the phone and waited for the editor to take it back, but no such movement was forthcoming. 

Timid voice trembling slightly, the brunette spoke up. “Uhm, Caroline asked me to tell you that she’ll talk with you when you get home.” 

When not even a response was forthcoming, the young woman apprehensively looked up. Miranda was looking at her, her face stoic as ever but with a questioning look in her arctic blue eyes. When the editor still made no move to take back her phone or to say something. The assistant anxiously tried again. 

“Would-, would you like me to go get Nigel and the others back?” 

The older woman raised an eyebrow, then shook her head. “No.” 

“Oh, ok. Then, I’ll just-, y’know, go back-” 

“How did that happen?” Miranda inquired, her soft voice holding no menace in it, just mere curiosity. 

“What?” Andy asked, feeling shocked and confused. 

“You, and my girls?” 

“Oh.” Realization dawned on Andy. “Well, ever since the Harry Potter, uhm, manuscript. They sort of, y’know, started talking to me.” 

“When?” 

“When I bring the Book.” Feeling concerned that she might’ve gotten the girls into trouble, she tried explaining the situation some more. “At first, I told them not to come down so late in the evening, and that they should go to bed, I swear I did. But they continued to come down every now and then, and I, well, I took a liking to them. Enjoyed talking with them, well, I listened, mostly. But yeah, it just sort of happened. So, please. Please, Miranda. Don’t be mad at them. Fire me if you must, but please don’t be mad at them. They’re good kids.” The brunette looked at her pleadingly, trying to convey the sincerity she felt. Miranda studied her for a moment longer, then gave a slight nod. She took the phone from Andy’s still outstretched hand and stepped to the side, clearing Andy’s path towards the doorway. 

“You're not fired, but you may go, Andréa.” The editor said, her face indecipherable once more. 

“Y-yes, Miranda.” The brunette nodded and practically ran back to her desk. 

Once sitting down, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to purge all the stress and anxiety from her system. The whole ordeal had left the young woman in an outright disarrayed state. The brunette’s head started to pound when she fully started to realize what she’d just done. Feeling mortified, she couldn’t believe she’d actually had voiced some of her thoughts and feelings regarding the silver-haired woman, to one of her children, for God’s sake, all while the older woman had been standing in the same room as her, listening to every single word she’d said. And what’s more, the editor hadn’t at all seemed angry with her for speaking to her daughter the way she did, well, at least not at the end of it all. She’d been so sure that this would’ve been the breaking point, the match in the powder barrel, the final straw. The inevitable moment that she be kicked out and banned from ever laying eyes upon any of the Priestly women again. And yet, nothing happened. The young woman felt the strange feeling of Deja-vu. For a moment, she was transported back to that fateful night in Paris. Standing in the presidential suite, pleading for the older woman not to fire her, and by the end, had been feeling utterly perplexed when the editor hadn’t so much as even breathed a single scathing remark at her. 

Once again, Miranda’s unpredictability had left her completely and utterly dumbfoundingly baffled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	10. Chapter 10

Two weeks came and went, seemingly within the blink of an eye. It had been some of the busiest and taxing days ever for the young brunette. With training a new second assistant, taking over some of Emily’s workload since the redhead was spending half her time under Nigel’s wing being acclimated within the art department, and doing her own abundant amount of work. It was safe to say that the assistant felt like she was right on the verge of collapse, but unpretentiously, she wouldn’t let her exhaustion show. The young woman continued on with her head held confidently high, face-splitting grin firmly in place, and shoulders determinately squared. Remembering the promise she had made to herself to overcome any obstacle, no matter how high, and conquer every predicament thrown on her path. She desperately clung to her resolve to reach the top, knowing it was an undertaking that she’d have to endure for years to come, but endure and succeed she will. Chanting daily to herself that she can do anything. 

The massive increase in workload wasn’t all that had changed for the young assistant. She’d taken notice of a modest, nearly negligible shift in her boss’ attitude towards her. To anyone on the outside looking in, it would’ve seemed like absolutely nothing had been altered between the two women. Miranda Priestly, the Devil in heels, was still very much the same mercurial, acrimoniously vicious, fire-breathing Dragon Lady. The Snow Queen still relentlessly demanded the impossible from her terror-stricken minions, piercing through their quivering souls with her arctic blue gaze. 

So, it wasn’t a visible shift the young woman noticed. It was rather something she felt. The editor hadn’t led up in her scathing remarks directed towards the brunette, but nevertheless, she had felt the change. However ferociously callous the insults were, the assistant sensed less menace in them. Whenever the silver-haired woman transfixed her with her bitterly cold, penetrating gaze, the young woman sensed less contempt in them. The revelation had thrown the young brunette entirely for a loop. But the instance that had truly and thoroughly boggled the assistant’s mind had happened that afternoon. 

The women were sitting in the backseat of the town car, going back to Runway from a showing they’d attended of a new designer. When the editor turned her head towards the young woman and seemed to regard her thoughtfully, scrutinizing her from top to bottom. It had been the first time in two weeks that the older woman had looked at her since they’d started driving all over New York together. After an excruciatingly confusing silent moment, the silver-haired woman finally spoke up, soft voice seemingly to be dripping with profound boredom. 

“What are you wearing to the benefit on Friday?” 

With her mind explosively blown away, the brunette struggled to form a coherent sentence. “Oh! Uhm, I-, well, I think-, I was-, Nig-” 

“Do get on with it, Andréa. You know how I love to be kept waiting.” Irritation had obviously taken over the boring intonation. 

The assistant took a calming and collecting breath before answering once more. “Well, I don’t know yet. I was going to ask Nigel for some suggestions later today.” 

“Hmm.” The editor hummed, sounding back to being bored as she turned her head to look out the window again. 

After several moments of silence, when Andy’s heartbeat had finally returned to its normal steady pace again, it sped up uncomfortably once more. 

“Wear the Versace suit, the one with the belt buckle.” The editor said, still looking out the window. 

“Oh, uhm, ok. I mean-. Yes, Miranda.” 

It could have just been the brunette’s imagination, probably from the exhaustion, and with her mind going completely haywire, but she nevertheless thought she saw the corner of Miranda’s lip twitch upward for a fraction of a second. It had almost looked as if the editor had been suppressing a grin of sorts. 

_ Yep. It’s official. _ The young woman mused.  _ I am without a doubt going completely and utterly insane.  _

*** 

“Nigel!” 

“WHA-?! Oh, for God’s sake. Stop doing that, Six! You’re going to put me in the hospital!” The art director snarled, only causing the brunette to laugh harder. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Andy giggled while wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye. 

Nigel scoffed. “I know you’re not.” 

“You’re right, I’m not. It’s just hilarious to watch you jump ten feet in the air.” The brunette wickedly grinned while patting him on the shoulder. 

“You just wait, dear Six. You’ll get what’s coming for you. Karma’s a vengeful bitch, you know.” He said, his gaze focusing back on two outfits hanging before him. 

The assistant patiently waited for him to make his decision, knowing that he’d only acknowledge her again when he did. He nodded once and picked up one of the outfits by its hanger and proceeded to hang it on a rack at the front of the Closet, Andy following him at the heel. 

“So, what is it this time? No, let me guess. You’re here because you need my worldly desired help again to find you a dress for the benefit.” The art director said, already looking through the extensive collection of gala dresses that were only a mere small assortment within the vast infinity of clothes hanging in the Closet. 

“Uhm, well, no. Not exactly. I already know what I’m going to wear.” Andy announced hesitantly. 

Raising a disbelieving eyebrow, Nigel asked. “You do?” 

The brunette nodded. “Yeah, it’s the uhm, the Versace suit, y’know, with the belt buckle?” 

“What?! Why do you want to wear  _ that _ ?” The art director looked at her as if she’d grown another head. 

“I-, I-, because I do?” Andy frowned, not understanding what the big deal was. 

“ _ You _ ? Want to wear a  _ suit  _ to the event?  _ That  _ suit?” He incredulously inquired. 

“Yes! I don’t get what the big deal is, Nige.” The brunette huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Have you even seen the suit?” He asked, still looking as if he didn’t believe a single word she said. 

“Well, no. That’s why I’m asking you, and for your help to finish the ensemble.” 

He scrutinized her for another moment. “Right, well. Come along then.”

*** 

“Nige? You forgot the blouse.” The brunette said from behind the dressing screen. 

“Nige?” She asked again when he didn’t respond. 

When the assistant poked her head around the screen, she saw him looking at her, arms crossed and an evil glint in his dark eyes. 

“Nige?” Andy asking again, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. 

“There isn’t one.” The art director deadpanned. 

Frowning, the brunette shook her head. “What? What do you mean, there isn’t one?” 

“That’s exactly what I meant, dear Six.” A wicked grin complemented his evil eyes. 

“You can’t be serious?” Once again reversing their roles, she looked at him as if he’d grown another head. 

“Deadly.” 

“How is this blazer supposed to cover, y’know, my assets?” Andy asked, shaking her head again. 

“It’s not. That’s the whole point.” He explained, looking at his fingernails. 

“What?! You can’t be serious, Nige?!” The brunette squeaked. 

“I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, dear Six.” The art director looked at her, a serious expression on his face. “Why have you chosen this particular outfit anyway? 

“I-, I-” Andy sighed and hid behind the screen again. “I didn’t.” 

“Then what made you decide to wear it?” Nigel inquired curiously. 

Andy hesitantly began. “Well, y’know, Miranda-” 

“Miranda?!” The art director’s voice rose slightly. “What has she-, wait. Did  _ she  _ suggest you wear that?” 

“Uhm, sort of? Didn’t really sound like a suggestion though.” 

“Miranda  _ told  _ you to wear that suit?” 

“I’m not really in the habit of repeating myself, Nige.” The brunette said, growing annoyed by his continued incredulity. 

The art director threw a silk robe over the dressing screen. “Put this on, and come out of hiding.” 

When the assistant appeared from behind the screen, he considered her for a moment. “What’s going between you two?” He asked sternly, raising an eyebrow. 

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Andy looked away, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“C’mon, Six. I can tell when you’re lying to me. Right now, you’re definitely lying.” Nigel said, placing his hands on his hips. 

The brunette looked him deadly straight in the eye then. “Seriously, Nigel. I don’t know what you’re asking.” 

The art director sighed and ran his hand over his balding head. “I’m not blind, Andy. I’ve seen things.” 

Growing defensive, she scoffed. “Congratulations, seems those glasses are really doing it for you then." Then after a moment, looking down, she asked. "What things?” 

“You’re really going to make me say it? Instead of just telling me?” 

“What things, Nigel?” 

He sighed again and admitted. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, Andy.” 

“What?” The brunette's eyebrows shot off heavenward. 

“You’ve asked me to give you a make-over. To make you more alluring.” 

“I-” 

“For Miranda.” 

“I-” 

“And now you’re telling me she wants you to wear that suit, that rather  _ revealing  _ suit?” 

“I-” 

“While you have to be by her side and whisper names and information in her ear all evening?” 

“I-” 

“What’s going on, Andy?” 

“I don’t know!” The brunette yelled. “What are you trying to say, Nigel? Because I’m really not following.” 

“You like her, don’t you?” He deadpanned. 

“What? Don’t be ridiculous!” The brunette fiercely fought against the blush she felt creeping up her cheeks. 

Pressing forward, he asked. “How long has this been going on?” 

Becoming frustrated, she said. “Nothing’s going on, Nigel!” 

“Oh, c’mon, Andy! Don’t take me for a fool. You were practically undressing her with your eyes a couple weeks ago. It looked like you were actually going to combust right then and there. And don’t you dare deny it. Don’t you dare lie to me again.” The art director heatedly accused, pointing a finger at her. 

Feeling overwhelmed and dumbfounded, the brunette remained silent for several moments, looking down at her feet. Then, she took a deep breath and gathered up her courage. 

“I-, I’m so screwed, Nigel.” A lone tear rolled down her cheek. 

“Oh, dear Six. C’mon, none of that now.” He spoke softly, stepping closer and wiping the tear away with his thumb. 

The young woman looked up at him, hazel eyes conveying all the agony she felt. “I’m so screwed because I-, I don’t just like her, Nigel. I’m-, I’m...” 

“You’re in love with her.” He stated, finishing off for her. 

“I am.” Andy groaned, another tear falling down her cheek. 

“Why is this making you so sad?” Nigel asked softly, lightly rubbing circles on her upper back. 

“Because! I’ve, like a moron, fallen head over heels in love with her and she fucking hates my guts, is why.” The brunette growled angrily, more at herself than at Nigel. 

“I admit that you may be a bit of a moron.” The art director chuckled sympathetically when the brunette fixed a deadly stare at him. “But she doesn’t hate you, kid.” 

“Of course, she does! Where have you been these last couple of months? With your head in the clouds? Have you  not  been seeing the way she’s been treating me?” Angry incredulity dripped from the brunette’s voice. 

“Of course, I have. That’s exactly the reason why I know that she doesn’t hate you.” Nigel tried to explain. 

“So, you’re saying that Miranda deriding and belittling my entire existence every chance she gets, does  _ not  _ mean she hates me? In what strange world are you living in, Nige?” The young woman looked at him as if she’d never seen someone so stupid before. 

“Don’t give me that look.” The art director placed the tip of his index finger between her eyebrows and lightly pushed forward. “For all the analyzing you’ve done of our Queen, you’ve certainly failed to notice a very important key-feature.” 

Rubbing her forehead, the brunette looked up at him questioningly. “What are you talking about?” 

“Surely you must know that people don’t affect Miranda, right? Incompetence, failures, annoyances, fatuousness, and so on, affect her mood for sure, but not the people themselves committing those atrocities. Miranda couldn’t give a rat’s arse about other people.” 

“Ok?” Andy asked, not understanding what Nigel was hinting at. 

The art director sighed, taking off his glasses and wiping them clean with the handkerchief from his breast pocket. “People don’t affect Miranda, and yet, you do.” 

“Oh, just spit it out, Nigel. What are you trying to say?” The brunette said, losing her patience at the vagueness. 

While folding up the handkerchief, he tried to explain. “What I’m saying is that she’s been so hostile towards you  _ because  _ you affect her. For some reason, you’ve wiggled your way under her skin, and she can’t seem to shake you off, and somehow it seems like she doesn’t want to. Otherwise, she would’ve fired you in Paris. Otherwise, you wouldn’t still be here.” 

The explanation confused the young woman to no end. After thinking about it for several moments, she could acknowledge the truth in his words, but still had no idea what it all meant. So, she voiced it out loud. “I’m so confused right now, Nige. What does that all mean exactly?” 

“Well, I can’t say for sure, of course. But my guess is that the reason why she’s been so spiteful and vindictive towards you was that you seemed to have hurt her feelings. In Paris.” The art director carefully tried to explain. 

“I-, I-, I hurt her? Because I left her for that one afternoon?” Skepticism laced Andy’s voice. “I figured out whilst talking to Caroline that I disappointed her for sure, that I even had broken her trust in me, yeah. But hurt her, Nigel?” The assistant looked up at him, searching for more answers. Nigel gazed at her as if he’d never seen anything so strange in his life. 

“What?” She asked, feeling unnerved by his stare. 

“You talked with Caroline? A-, about Miranda and-, Paris?” Disbelief exuded from every pore on his body. 

“Oh! Yeah. I’ve been talking with the twins for a while.” Andy explained apprehensively. 

“Why? How?” Nigel asked in shock. 

“Uhm, because they wanted to talk, and I-, didn’t mind. Sort of happened since Harry Potter. Anyway, that’s not the point here. You said I’d hurt her? Not just disappointed, but hurt her? What makes you say that?” 

“Well, if you’d simply disappointed her, she would’ve gotten over it in no time. The fact that you’ve broken her trust would’ve taken a little more time and a lot of effort building that back up on your part. Which you’ve certainly been doing like a maniac. But the fact that she’s been holding a grudge well over two months and to such a deliberate extent, implies that your decision to leave might’ve affected her on a deeper level.” 

“But why? If what you’re saying is true. Why do I affect her this way?” The brunette ran her hands through her hair, her mind boggling with their conversation. 

Raising an eyebrow at the brunette, he said. “Use that smart little brain of yours, Andy. What does being hurt by someone entail?” 

The young woman pondered the question for a moment until a light bulb went off in her head. Her eyes widened in extreme incredulous disbelief as she felt her body going numb. “No. That-, that can’t be-, right?” She whispered. 

Pressing forward, Nigel asked again. “What does it entail, Six?” 

Shaking her head, the assistant said. “It-, it would suggest that-, that she-, cares?” 

When Nigel didn’t respond, Andy looked up at him. “She-, she cares?” 

The art director nodded. “It certainly seems that way, kid.” 

“In what way? To what extent?” 

Nigel shook his head. “That’s something I cannot answer, Six. That’s something only the woman in question holds the answers to.” 

“So, why-, why does she want me to wear that suit?” The assistant asked curiously.

Nigel grinned wickedly. “Well, it can only be worn by a certain type of women. Women with an advantage that most of our models don’t have.”

Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, Andy pressed forward. “Ok? So, what do I have that most of the models don’t?”

Chuckling, Nigel drew circles in the air with his finger, indicating the brunette’s chest area.

“Oh!” The young woman squeaked, then proceeded to nod numbly as she gazed forward, letting the entire conversation sink in. It took the brunette several long moments to return back to earth. 

When the art director saw she’d returned to the land of the living, he questioned. “So, what will you do about it now that you figured it out?” 

Andy looked at him, a mega-watt smile lighting up the entire room. “How do I keep my boobs from falling out of that suit?” 

Nigel’s laughter echoed through the entire room. “Oh, dear Six.” He chuckled, wiping a tear away. “That’s why they’ve made double-sided tape.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	11. Chapter 11

The night of the benefit found the young woman waiting in the cosmetics room of the beauty department. Suffice to say, the brunette was feeling rather restless. She still had trouble believing the revelation that was the outcome of her conversation with the art director a couple of days ago. The assistant simply couldn’t wrap her mind around it. And who could blame her really? She truly thought she understood the silver-haired woman better than most. She worked out an entire handbook concerning the editor within her mind, predicting every wants and needs, knew every meaning behind a look or tone of voice, and yet, the brunette hadn’t understood the real reason for the editor’s contempt towards her. Granted, the older woman’s behavior resolutely contradicted even the slightest possibility that she might care, in some way or the other, for the younger woman. And yet it made sense, it truly didn’t, but it did. 

Nigel had been right about Miranda never being affected by people’s actions in a more profound way. Nothing could get past the walls the editor had built around herself. Nothing could penetrate the armor she wore to protect herself from the outside world. Yet somehow, for reasons entirely unknown, the brunette had managed to wiggle herself around both. The assistant couldn’t for the life of her figure out how she’d managed to do it, and what it exactly meant. She wanted to feel ecstatic about the fact that she somehow meant something, anything to the silver-haired woman, but all it had really done was confuse her even more. Thinking the older woman was an absolute enigma who worked in the most mysterious ways imaginable. 

All the brunette really understood was that she needed to know, needed to find out what she meant to the editor. Did she view her as a mere prodigy of sorts, someone she’d wanted to mentor, to shape and form before their time in Paris? After all, the editor had acknowledged that she saw a great deal of herself in the younger woman. Or was it the fact that looking past the acrimonious nature of their relationship, the assistant remarkably complimented her work ethic, making the older woman’s life’s work run as smooth as it never had done before. Runway certainly meant a profoundly great deal to the editor. So, it could definitely mean she appreciated the assistant’s efforts in some way, even if she didn’t acknowledge any of it. 

Maybe that was the real reason the editor had kept her around after Paris instead of firing her. To use her in any way she could to make her life at work considerably easier. That certainly held a more believable emphasis to it. But then why, instead of working together in a more civil way, had the editor been dead set on making her life a living hell? Surely, the silver-haired woman had to see that life at work could’ve run an immensely lot smoother if she worked with the assistant in a more congenial manner? 

Everything about the revelation and Miranda spoke in a contradictory manner, making the younger woman feel utterly deranged when overthinking about the matter. The brunette’s mind swirled with questions, and if she ever wanted to feel even a semblance of sane again, she needed answers. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, querida! Traffic's the absolute worst today.” The beautiful Brazilian blonde grinned when she entered the room. “Are you ready to be beautified, si? Not that you need it, being a natural beauty, of course.” 

The brunette chuckled, slightly blushing. “Thanks, and you aren’t late, Serena. I’m just early. A habit that’s hard to break since I’ve been working for Miranda.” 

“Oh, I’m sure. So, where’s the dress you’re wearing?” The blonde looked around, eyes landing on a garment bag hanging from a three-way mirror. “Is that it?” She asked, walking over to it. 

Andy tried to explain. “Yeah, however, it’s not a-” 

“Oh! It’s a suit!” Serena exclaimed excitingly when she opened the garment bag. “Oh, oh my. You know this doesn’t come with a dress-shirt, si?” 

Andy nodded. “I do. Nigel explained I have the right-, assets, to pull it off.” 

The blonde blatantly ran her eyes over the brunette’s chest. “Oh, si. You most certainly do.” 

The brunette chuckled and blushed again. “Are you always this brazen when checking someone out, Serena?” 

“Only when that someone deserves to know how beautiful I think they are.” The beauty director winked and grinned at her. 

Andy laughed and shook her head. “You’re impossible.” 

Pressing a hand against her heart, the blonde said. “Oh, you know me so well, you flatter me, querida.” 

Laughing again, Andy walked over to one of the make-up dressers. “Alright, alright. Are you going to beautify me or stand there and flirt with me all night?” 

“I most definitely would prefer the latter, but let’s not keep Miranda waiting, si?” Serena said whilst gathering what seemed to be a ton of cosmetics that probably costs more than what the brunette makes in over a week. 

When the beauty director was finished with her hair and make-up, Andy went behind a dressing screen to put on the Versace suit. When the brunette emerged, walking over to the three-way mirror, she gasped when she caught sight of herself. “Oh! That’s-, I-. Wow, I look-” 

“Positively ravishing? Si, you most certainly do.” Serena declared, raking her eyes all over the brunette’s form. 

“I was going to say amazing, but yeah, that works too.” Andy agreed, raking her own astonished eyes over her mirror reflection. 

Never before would the brunette have thought of herself as ‘positively ravishing’, and yet, here she was. Her long wavy locks had been pulled up in a stylish updo that looked casually chic, with a couple of tendrils framing the sides of her face. Her make-up had never been done so bold before. Her hazel eyes were darkly defined by exquisitely applied smokey-eyes. The contours of her face were slightly reinforced, making her look older but sensuously stunning, and her plump lips were covered in a matt burgundy lipstick. Golden teardrop earrings adorned her ears. The black blazer looked like it had been tailored to suit her form perfectly. The golden baroque flower pattern embroidered on the lapels certainly attracted attention, consequently drawing the eyes to the vast amount of skin on display. The blazer closed with a gold silk fabric as its belt, its lion head buckle closing the sides several inches above her belly button. A golden teardrop hanging from a long chain rested on top of the juncture of her breasts. The black dress pants clung to her as if a second skin, ending at the end of her calves, and 4-inch gold stilettos encased her feet, its straps circling up around her ankles. 

“My God, I never knew I could look like this.” The brunette breathed. 

“Runway would certainly profit with you on its cover.” Serene chuckled. “Let me finish getting ready, then we can ride together.” 

*** 

The young woman felt, rather than saw, all eyes in the room turn towards her the moment she stepped through the threshold of the grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel. After less than five minutes of attendance, a handsome young gentleman came over to strike up a conversation with her, but she was whisked away by a very dapper-looking art director before the young man could even utter a word. 

“Seriously, what was Miranda thinking? At this rate, I’ll be fending off hungry hounds all evening.” Nigel grumbled while moving them towards the bar. 

“Don’t worry. I’m perfectly capable of fending them off myself, Nige.” The brunette laughed. 

“Oh, I’m not worried about that, but about what Miranda will do to them if they so much as come within breathing distance of you.” Nigel said, running a hand over his balding head. 

Andy shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. The only thing she’ll care about if someone tries to talk to me is that I’d be neglecting my duty.” 

“Hmm, I guess we’ll see who’s right soon enough.” Nigel said, looking over her shoulder. 

At that moment, a hush fell over the crowd, and the air in the room seemed to thicken with a compelling chilling intensity, charging the atmosphere with daunting energy. Hazel eyes were vigorously captivated by the enthralling vision of the silver-haired goddess, roaming hungrily over the seductive silhouette sheathed in a sleek, figure-skimming Valentino silk gown. Shimmering embellishments accentuated the center of the piece for a romantic finishing touch. Its halter neckline left regal shoulders and arms completely bare, and the deep blue, nearly black color contrasted beautifully with and complementing the pristine alabaster skin. The iconic silver forelock was neatly swiped back, making the brunette’s fingers twitch to caress it back down, adoring how it usually fell over her left eye. Still, she loved the fact that the slightly different hairstyle made the older woman appear serenely softer somehow, and how the lustrous arctic blue eyes were exquisitely highlighted. 

The assistant was unshakably convinced that there was not a single thing in the entire universe that could even remotely compare to the magnificent Venus that is Miranda Priestly. 

Starting to feel dizzy, the young woman remembered she needed to breathe whilst trying to calm her thunderous heart. 

“My God, you’ve got it bad.” The art director, who’d been watching the brunette, said, then proceeded to push her forward. “Go on, you mustn't keep the Queen waiting.” 

With an all-mighty effort, Andy tried to gather her wits while moving towards the editor. She needed to keep her head in the game. The only reason that she’s here was to work, to relay the names and information of people who’d dared to speak to the silver-haired goddess. And she wouldn’t be able to do that if she didn’t get a handle on her thoughts and get her mind out of the gutter. 

She was halfway towards the editor when their gazes locked. It felt like she had been struck by a bolt of lightning, blazing her entire body, inside and out, in a scorching wildfire. 

Her mind shut down entirely, bewitched by the bedeviling existence. All the brunette could do was feel, and live the sensations that were taking over her body and soul. 

Miranda’s features tempestuously darkened as her inflamed arctic-turned-ocean blue gaze seemed to ensnare the younger woman’s enraptured soul, seizing it with her all-consuming own, in a transcendental astriction. 

The electrifying charged energy between them sparked and crackled, causing a prickling sensation to graze over her heated skin. 

The palpable tension overwhelmed the brunette’s entire being but despite that, felt her body mindlessly moving forward, as if a magnetic force was pulling her in. 

Fatefully, they stood facing each other. The captivated victim’s body screamed to devour the silver-haired goddess, to consume her mind, body, and soul, and to dominate her into being hers alone. 

“Andréa.” The editor growled softly, ocean blue eyes roaming over the brunette’s form. 

The brunette had to vigorously force her eyes not to close as a delectable shiver ran up and down her spine. 

“Miranda.” The young woman’s strained whisper nearly came out as a groan as she took a step closer. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Came the barely controlled, heated question. 

Andy smirked devilishly and leisurely moved closer until she was a hair’s breadth away, then deviated to the side and took her place behind the silver-haired goddess. Leaning in closer, lips nearly brushing the editor’s ear, she heard the woman’s surprised slight intake of breath, and she whispered fervently. “My job.” 

*** 

A steady stream of people came over to worship the silver-haired goddess, some of the more conceited types came over to glorify themselves, both seeking out her recognition and approval. The editor’s socialistic smile was firmly in place, impeccably feigning interest in the conversations, nodding gracefully and commenting cordially like clockwork. The brunette stood dutifully behind the older woman, smooth and tactfully relaying the names and information of the attendees that have deemed themselves worthy enough to breathe the same air as the editor. 

A British, handsome gentleman, with salt and pepper hair, who goes by the name of Arthur Alastair charmed his way into eliciting a dulcet laugh from the silver-haired woman, even going as far as to have the audacity to wrap his hand around her forearm, lean in closer and whisper something in her ear. 

The younger woman unconsciously clenched her jaw and fists together, feeling her blood boil as she started to see red. The brunette knew she had no right to feel this way, but to see someone else touching her editor unleashed something inside her that she didn’t know she possessed and clouded over her mind in a jealous rage. 

The assistant felt herself being insistently swept away by an arm lacing through hers. It wasn’t until she lost sight of the silver-haired woman that she snapped out of her retention and saw Nigel leading them towards the bar. 

“C’mon, you’re in desperate need of a drink.” The art director said. 

The brunette let out a growl-like groan. “Nigel, I don’t need a-” 

“Oh, yes. You do. Seriously, you looked like you were about to break that man’s neck.” He looked at her worriedly. 

The brunette scoffed. “What? I did not!” 

Shaking his head at the younger woman, he said. “Yes, you did. Funny, I didn’t peg you for the jealous type.” 

“It’s not funny, and I’m not.” Andy huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Mhm. Here, drink this.” The art director handed a glass of champagne over to her. 

Andy fell silent for a moment, then rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand. “I’ve never been the jealous type, Nige.” After taking a heartfelt sip, she shook her head at herself. “I don’t even have the right! But God, when he laid his hand on her I-, I don’t know what came over me.” 

Nigel laid his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it lightly. “As I’ve said, you’ve got it bad, dear Six.” Finishing off his own drink, he gestured at someone to come over. “Stop worrying. I’m going to have to sweep her away now anyway. Unfortunately, we still have some braggarts to talk to.” And with that, he took his leave. A very striking Brazilian blonde taking his place. 

“Has Nigel finally managed to release you from your duties?” The blonde smirked at her. 

“Something like that, yes.” The brunette looked around the room. “Isn’t Emily here? I thought the two of you would be hanging out together?” 

Serena shook her head.  “No , she had to stay home due to a cold she caught.” 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” 

The blonde shrugged a shoulder, then winked. “Luckily I found myself with some rather pleasurable company tonight.” 

Andy laughed. “God, you’re so smooth, Serena. I don’t see how Emily hasn’t fallen head over heels for you yet.” 

The beauty director chuckled lightly. “Let’s not talk about Emily, shall we? C’mon let’s go somewhere else, we’re starting to hold up the line.” The blonde took a hold of her hand and guided her towards the far end of the room where it was less crowded. Turning around to face the brunette again, she leaned sideways against a pillar and smirked. “Tell me something about yourself? I don’t get the chance to see much of you at work.” 

“Yeah, I don’t get the chance to do anything except work, really.” The brunette chuckled. “So, what do you want to know?” 

“Well, you said you wanted to be a writer, si? Have you been able to get some writings done since working for Runway?” The blonde leaned in a little closer. 

“I did actually. I’m actually getting an article published on Monday.” Andy exuberantly said, grinning her mega-watt smile. 

“Wow, that’s great news, Andy! Congrats.” Serena cheered, placing her hand on the brunette’s shoulder. “In what is it getting published? So, I can get myself a copy.” 

“Thanks, it’s nothing major. Just a small piece in the Daily Mirror. Let me know what you think after you read it, will you?” 

“Oh, most definitely. But knowing you, I’m sure it’ll be the best article in that paper.” Serena winked, sliding the hand that was resting on the shoulder down to hold Andy’s wrist. 

The brunette laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. But it’s nice of you to say so.” 

Suddenly, Andy felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rise up to attention. A chill crept up her spine, making her shiver. The brunette didn’t have to think twice to know as to what, or who would cause such an effect on her body. 

The brunette looked up apologetically at the beauty director. “Uhm, I’m sorry, Serena. But I have to go. I think Miranda’s waiting.” 

“How-?” The beauty director looked over the brunette’s shoulder and nodded. “Oh, you’re right. Go. You know how she loves to be kept waiting, si?” 

The assistant turned around and let her body be magnetically pulled forward towards the editor before she even spotted the woman. When hazel eyes locked with arctic blues once more, she didn’t feel all the electrifying and blazing sensations that had enraptured her before. This time, the freezing intensity in the arctic gaze pierced and impaired her soul, chilling her to the bone. She let out a shaking breath as her body shivered. The detrimental tension caused her mind to frost over, numbing her entire being. 

In an instant, the young woman was snapped out of the freezing spell by a warm hand grabbing a hold of her forearm, making her halt her progress and jolt her mind into alertness. 

“Finally, I’ve been waiting all night for a chance to speak with you.” A dashing young man with beaming green eyes gleefully smiled at her, still holding on to her forearm. 

“I’ve been busy.” The brunette tersely said, subtly trying to free her arm from his hold but the movement had the reverse effect as the grip slightly tightened. 

“I’ve noticed.” He chuckled. “My name is Nicholas Hastings, Nick for short. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around one of these shindigs before. I would’ve remembered you.” Nick flashes his pearly white teeth. 

“I doubt that.” The brunette grumbled under her breath. 

Nick leaned in closer and curiously asked. “What was that?” 

Andy shook her head. “Nothing.” She took a step back. “Listen, Nicholas-” 

“Nick” He winked, flashing his pearly whites again. 

“Nick. I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t have the time for this-” 

“Then make some.” He interrupted, then pulled lightly at her arm. “I want to have a drink with you.” 

The brunette took a firm stance, refusing to be dragged away by the young man. “Nick I-” 

“Andréa.” 

The young woman’s body rigidly tensed up when she heard her name being growled from right behind her. She turned sideways as the hand on her arm wouldn’t allow her to turn completely. Her heart sped up to a near painful rhythm when her fearful hazel eyes were captured by the murderous intensity in the arctic-turned-ocean blues. 

“Miranda, I-” The assistant began with a trembling breath but the editor turned her deadly destructive gaze towards the young man. 

“Mr. Hastings, has no one ever taught you that accosting women is entirely disgraceful?” The editor snarled, lethal poison dripping from her voice. 

The young man’s eyes widened tremendously and he let go of Andy’s arm as if he’d been burned. “I-” 

“No, no. That wasn’t a question.” The older woman snapped at him. “I sincerely suggest you move along now” 

Nicholas didn’t need to be told twice as he practically ran off in the opposite direction as if his shoes were set on fire. 

That same fire seemed to burn a hole right through Andy’s blazer, and scorch her skin at the small of her back. Her breath caught in her throat as her entire body was set ablaze by Miranda’s touch. 

“Come along, Andréa.” The editor commanded. Gently pushing her forward to prompt her into moving. 

The young woman was blindly being guided through the ballroom towards the exit and outside. The cold, brisk night air did nothing for her burning skin. It wasn’t until she was being steered into a waiting car that the spellbinding hand left her body, releasing her from its possession. 

“To the townhouse, Roy. Then take Andréa home.” 

The editor’s silent command invaded the brunette’s mind, waking her from her trance. Blinking, she looked around, only then noticing that she sat in the backseat of Miranda’s car with the woman seated beside her, looking out the window. The silver-haired woman wasn’t acknowledging her when she kept looking at her. The brunette’s mind swirled with questions, yet she found that she couldn’t voice them. So, they rode in silence, but the tension the assistant felt was buzzing loudly in her ears. The heavily charged energy revolving around them made the tiny hairs on her body stand up, and her heart beat thunderously against her chest. 

The brunette looked over to the silver-haired woman once more, noticing the clenching of her jaw, the rigid tension in her shoulders, the heavy, yet silent breathing of her chest, and the firm clutching grasp of her hands on her lap. 

The young woman realized, once again, that her existence did affect the editor, seemingly in a more profound way than she could’ve ever imagined. But she couldn’t figure out in what way, and to what extent. 

Before the assistant could even begin to think about forming questions she could voice or for a way to strike up some sort of conversation, the car slowed down, stopping at the curb in front of the townhouse. In one swift and graceful movement, the silver-haired woman exited the car before the driver even had a chance to reach for his door. 

The brunette longingly watched as the editor walked away from her, up the steps and disappearing behind the closing door. 

*** 

The young woman laid in her bed, staring up at the crack in the ceiling, thinking about tonight’s events. She couldn’t comprehend what had transpired between Miranda and herself, desperately wishing to understand the meaning hidden behind the arctic-turned-ocean blues. 

Her rousing feelings had been all over the place, clouding her mind in a lustful daze. The silver-haired woman had completely taken over her body by her ensnaring inflamed gaze, transcending them both to another plane. She hadn’t even noticed how the entire world had faded away the moments their eyes had locked, taking each other prisoner. The tempestuous heated tension that had consumed them seemed entirely out of this world. The brunette couldn’t fathom how such an enrapturing astriction could even exist, and yet, here she was, her mind, body, and soul captured, and utterly drowning in it. 

The brunette closed her eyes, vividly seeing the vision of the silver-haired goddess, every single exquisitely perfect detail, in her mind’s eye. Remembering the flaming arctic fire enveloping her, the delicious ambrosial fragrance that engulfed her when she leaned in to whisper in her ear, but most of all, her touch. 

They had touched before, fingers brushing over coffee cups, or handing over papers, but this, the hand on the small of her back, had been deliberate, purposeful, and that made all the difference. 

Never before had a touch affected her the way Miranda’s had done. It had burned her, ignited her soul, and that in combination with everything else, had ruptured her rousing desires. 

The young woman felt her body heat up and threw off her blanket. Remembering Miranda’s blazing touch, she longed to feel those scorching hands all over her naked skin. Her own hands followed Miranda’s touch in her mind. 

The tips of her fingers brushed whisperingly light, barely touching, moving leisurely over one end of her collarbone to the other, descending in a torturously slow pace. The pressure of her fingertips increased when trailing over the edges of her mounds, circling them with added pressure until they reached the top. Fingernails scratched the tips and edges of protruding, stiff peaks, laboring her heavy breathing. Fingertips imprisoned her nipples, pinching them into luscious stinging sensations, brimming over hotly down her hills, leaving her breasts in a delicious burning blaze. 

One hand descended further, fingertips trailing up and down her abdomen. On the last descending trail, nails sunk in, leaving burning, long reddening marks, delectably awakening her skin. 

Descending further still, recreating the whispering touch, she caressed up an inner thigh, passing over the juncture, then down the other, and back up. Going back and forth over the sensitive skin, continuously adding pressure with each passing. Once again, fingernails dug in, scratching back and forth, making her skin come alive, her body bursting with delirious arousal. 

Feeling hot fluids dripping down onto bedsheets, compelling fingers to move in, she stroke lightly over longing, quivering flesh. Excruciatingly slow strokes, spread her wetness over every single inch of pink skin. The sensitive bundle of nerves trembled, desiring, screaming for much-needed attention. Body tensing up from head to toe when the touch was finally granted, only to be unleashed again to probe at her entrance. Her other hand abandoned the ministrations on her now, overly sensitive nipples, to no longer neglect her howling clit, rubbing it in slow but firm circles. 

The young woman was gasping, and her soft whimpers turned into long, straining moans when fingers entered her deeply. The delirious leisurely pace of both hands slowly picked up speed with each passing minute, until she was frantically reaching for desperate release. The desirable tension burned in her stomach, contracting lower and lower, tightening her core, squeezing her fingers together. Her breathing stopped, trapping her breath in her chest as her entire body tensed up, head pushing back into the pillow, back arching up high off the bed, legs shaking, and toes curling into the mattress. The euphoric rupture spread throughout her body, engulfing her every cell in delicious pleasure as she moaned out her release, collapsing back onto the bed. 

The brunette’s heartbeat and frantic breathing slowed down as the sweat on her body started to cool, making her reach blindly for her blanket. The closing of glowing arctic-turned-ocean blue eyes in her mind induced the young woman into a deep sated sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, don't hate me for this!

It was the Wednesday after the benefit and the atmosphere around the two women since Monday had been brimming with an uncomfortable awkward tension. It was utterly strange to notice how the editor seemed to avoid looking into the assistant’s eyes or couldn’t seem to stand her presence for more than a couple of seconds. Demands were being curtly delivered, instantaneously followed by the long-established terse dismissal. Not even a single scathing remark had been thrown her way yet and it was making the brunette feel remarkably anxious, heading straight for certifiably deranged as if she were suddenly living in the twilight zone. The assistant couldn’t for the life of here figure out what could possibly be making the supposedly fearsome and fearless editor behave this way. Was it something the brunette had said, or done, at the night of the benefit? That whole night had been a rather strange ordeal. They had barely talked, which wasn’t something out of the ordinary. They never talked at one of these events, or even at Runway, if it wasn’t something work-related. So, then what? What was making the editor behave in such a bizarre way? The Dragon Lady was still very much alive and well in all her magnificently splendid, spine-chilling, horrifyingly bloodcurdling glory when it came to breathing down fire on the rest of her minions. And yet, the brunette was being treated and repelled as if she were an incubus of viral plague. 

Nigel’s words suddenly kept hitting her at the forefront of her mind. 

_ ‘Surely you must know that people don’t affect Miranda, right? Incompetence, failures, annoyances, fatuousness, and so on, affect her mood for sure, but not the people themselves committing those atrocities. Miranda couldn’t give a rat’s  _ _ arse _ _ about other people.’  _

_ ‘People don’t affect Miranda, and yet, you do.’  _

_ ‘What I’m saying is that she’s been so hostile towards you  _ **_ because  _ ** _ you affect her. For some reason, you’ve wiggled your way under her skin, and she can’t seem to shake you off, and somehow it seems like she doesn’t want to. Otherwise, she would’ve fired you in Paris. Otherwise, you wouldn’t still be here.’  _

The assistant still had trouble believing what the art director had said that day. But she would be a blind fool now if she didn’t acknowledge that yes, Miranda seemed to behave entirely differently around the young woman. For some unfathomable reason, Andy affected the Devil in heels, and she needed to know why so she could fix this. This extraordinarily strange behavior would simply not do, it didn’t feel right. The brunette never would have thought she’d say this, but she started to miss the cruel way the editor had been treating her, if only for the chance to hear and look at the silver-haired woman for longer than five seconds. This wasn’t the Miranda Priestly she knew, and the young woman would be damned if she didn’t try anything within her power to get her back. 

Fortunately, they were scheduled to attend a showing of a new designer today, and the car ride would take them all the way across town. Plenty of time for the assistant to figure out what’s been going on with the editor. That is if she could find the courage to actually talk to the older woman. 

This time, it was Cassidy’s words that kept hitting her at the forefront of her mind. 

_ ‘Maybe you can try and start talking to mom whenever you’re with her? Make her see you’re not a bad person, but really, really nice. Why does she dislike you so much anyway? It doesn’t make any sense...’  _

_ ‘You’re always saying that I’m brave for opening up and talking about my feelings. Maybe you should try to be brave too and listen to your own advice. I know you’re brave too. No one else would dare speak to us if mom doesn’t want it, and yet, you do.’  _

_ ‘Maybe she’ll like it. To have someone to talk with. Mom can be really funny  _ _ y’know _ _ , and you like to laugh, don’t you?’ _

Well, the brunette was entirely sure that the silver-haired woman was not going to like to talk with her. Thinking that she will, would definitely give her a ticket straight to the loony bin. But the young woman would risk it, risk her job, risk her sanity, and risk her life, to turn things back to how they were. Having the Miranda Priestly she knew back, would certainly be worth everything. 

*** 

Sitting in the backseat of the town car was unequivocally an awkward experience. The tension oozing from the editor was nearly tangible and it left the brunette in all different kinds of a jittery and fidgeting mess. The assistant had no clue as to how to approach the older woman without having her head bitten off. But then she thought that that would exactly be the sort of reaction she wanted to induce back into the editor. So, the young woman stilled her fidgeting hands, took a deep breath, and without further ado, ventured forward to pet the sleeping Dragon. 

“Uhm, Miranda?” 

Came the first gentle caress, rousing the Dragon into wakefulness if the editor’s slight flinch of her shoulder was anything to go by. But the Dragon didn’t stir any further from her slumber, seemingly not deeming the endeavoring peasant appetizing enough to devour. 

Venturing forward once more, the endeavoring peasant decided if a caress wouldn’t wake the slumbering Dragon, then perhaps a scratch behind the ears would. 

“Miranda, is-, are you-, is everything alright?” 

That seemed to have woken the slumbering Dragon as it turned its menacing head towards the endeavoring peasant, its narrowing arctic blue eyes threatening, as if saying another pet, caress or scratch would unmistakably result in the peasant becoming its savory lunch. 

The courageous endeavoring peasant was determined to conquer her quest to lure the ravenous Dragon out from its lair and proceeded to offer herself up on a silver platter. 

“It’s just that-, y’now, you’ve been-, you seemed out of sorts, or something, y’know, this week.” 

The endeavoring peasant trembled in fear by the hungry look in the ravenous Dragon’s threatening eyes, who has been thoroughly tempted to devour the delicious meal that has been presented to her. The Dragon snarled, baring its razor-sharp teeth, and lurched forward, snapping at the peasant. 

“What on earth are you gibbering on about, Andréa? Have you lost your silly, little brain on your way over to work? I am certainly nothing of the sort.” 

The courageous endeavoring peasant drew up her shield and flashed her mega-watt blinding smile. 

“Oh, thank God. You had me worried there for a minute. I thought I must’ve done something wrong for you to stop insulting me all of a sudden.” 

Having been caught off guard and rendered into stupefaction by the blinding smile. The Dragon blinked, and seems to have forgotten about its hunger, stalked forward and sniffed as if trying to smell out the ulterior motive behind the peasant’s quest. 

“You-? What are you on about, Andréa? You can’t be seriously telling me that you’re looking to be insulted by me, are you?” 

“Well, yes. I mean, no. I mean, not entirely? It’s just that you’ve been acting really stran-, different, towards me. And it sort of, y’know, unsettled me a little. I couldn’t figure out what I did to, I don’t know, sort of upset you maybe? Since you’ve been trying to avoid me like I’m some plague or something. I just sort of, well, missed you, I guess? So, I thought if I would poke the Dr-, bear, you would, y’know, start acting normal around me again.” 

The editor looked at her as if she had suddenly grown another monstrous head, causing the assistant to giggle dumbly for never having seen such a comical look on the older woman’s face before. 

“You missed-?” The editor shook her head slightly, steeling her features back to normal. “Yes, well. You certainly are a strange creature, Andréa. If you enjoy being insulted by me.” 

The brunette giggled again. “Oh, I don’t necessarily enjoy you insulting me, Miranda. I can certainly do without all the scathing remarks. I just missed interacting with you, y’know, for you not to repel me if I were an incubus of viral plague. Because we all know just how much you love that, don’t we?” She said, flashing her mega-watt smile. 

The editor sniffed and looked questioningly at the assistant for a moment. “You want to interact? With me?” 

The brunette giggled again and quipped. “Most certainly do.” 

The silver-haired woman raised an eyebrow and looked as if there was something wrong with the assistant. “Do you always giggle this much? Or have you gobbled down something alive and furry this morning?” 

The brunette couldn’t help but laugh and shook her head. “Gosh, I don’t know why I’m so surprised. Cassidy did say you could be really funny sometimes.” 

The editor narrowed her eyes. “I am most certainly not trying to be funny, Andréa.” She squinted her eyes even further into mere slits. “And what’s this about Cassidy?” 

The menacing look immediately stopped the brunette from giggling or laughing any further as a slight panic overtook her and she apprehensively tried to explain. “Oh! It’s just-, something Cassidy said, well, emailed a while back.” 

The older woman’s voice lowered as she threatened. “And what did she say to you, exactly?” 

Andy gulped loudly as a cold sweat transpired on her back. “Nothing-, just-, well-, y’know, to talk-, I guess-, uhm, with you.” 

“My daughter told you to talk.” The editor said slowly. “With me. Why?” 

“I-, I-, well. She'd said that maybe-, you would-, like it? To have uhm, someone to talk with?” 

“And my daughter thought you to be a suitable candidate to fill in such a position? Why would she think such a thing?” Miranda asked, her tone laced with incredulity. 

“I guess-, because-, I’m not-.” The brunette sat up straighter and tried to gather up her confidence again. “Because I’m not like the others.” 

The editor raised a questioning eyebrow. “Explain.” 

Steeling her nerves, the younger woman tried to look as if to reinforce the statement she was about to give. “Cassidy thinks, and I know, that I’m not like the others. Because I’m not, well, I’m not afraid of you, Miranda.” 

The editor let out a rather undignified snort. “Well, that’s a rather preposterous statement.” 

The brunette frowned. “What makes you say that?” 

Miranda rolled her eyes as if that were the most idiotic question she’d ever heard. “Honestly, Andréa. You can’t have me actually believe that I don’t frighten you?” 

“You don’t.” Andy stated adamantly. 

The older woman looked at her, incredulity written all over her face. “Do you think I have failed to notice how you turn into a quivering and stammering mess every five minutes? Or how you sometimes flee my office as if the Bogeyman was after you?” 

The assistant shook her head. “That’s not because I’m afraid of you, Miranda. Yes, you turn me into a foolish nervous mess sometimes. But that’s only because you intimidate me.” 

“I intimidate you?” The editor scoffed. “Is that not the same thing, Andréa?” 

“No, it’s not.” The brunette sternly said. “In case you have failed to notice, Miranda. You have a rather out-of-this-world presence going on and all. You act like you’re some sort of queen or a goddess, and I’d be a fool if I didn’t see that you certainly have created your own empire, your own legacy to back that up. I’d be a fool if I didn’t think that you are someone to behold.” The assistant huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and looked out of the window. “So, no. You don’t frighten me, Miranda. So, yes. You intimidate me, but only because I admire you.” 

Silence reigned over the two women once more, but the brunette was left too agitated to care about any awkwardness between them. 

It wasn’t until they were at the showing that the assistant realized that they were back at square one, with the silver-haired woman ignoring her once again. Which the brunette thought was just ridiculous and it left her even more agitated to even remotely care. So, on the drive back to Runway, the brunette couldn’t be bothered to strike up a conversation again as she continued to look out of the window with her chin resting in her hand, thinking she’ll deal with this problem some other time. She certainly hadn’t expected for the disregarding Dragon to start poking the conquering peasant. 

“You aren’t afraid of me.” The editor stated more than she questioned. 

The brunette was still very much sulking so she didn’t respond, merely shook her head as she continued to look out the window. 

“But I intimidate you.” The editor stated again, to which the brunette nodded once too. 

“Oh, do stop sulking, Andréa. It’s rather unbecoming. You said it was because you admire me?” This time, the editor questioned more than she stated. 

The assistant rolled her eyes, still not turning around to face the older woman. “Haven’t we already gone over this?” She grumbled. 

“Well, that’s certainly even more difficult to believe than you not being afraid of me.” The silver-haired woman retorted sharply. 

That made the younger woman’s head snap around to squint her hazel eyes at arctic blues. “That’s just ridiculous. What on earth would make you think that?” The brunette snarled. 

The editor squinted her own eyes at the assistant. “Don’t take that tone with me, Andréa.” She warned threateningly. 

Andy scoffed. “Or what? I’ll do whatever the heck I want. I’m not afraid of you Miranda, remember?” 

“Clearly.” The editor huffed, then her voice dropped, menacingly soft. “Yes, you’ve certainly made it quite clear that you’ll do just whatever you seem fit.” 

The brunette frowned in confusion. She suddenly couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more going on behind those words. She took a moment to think about it whilst studying the silver-haired woman but couldn’t figure it out. So, she backtracked the conversation a little to try and understand where all of this was coming from. 

“You said you don’t believe the fact that I admire you. What makes you think that, Miranda?” 

Instead of answering, the editor rolled her eyes and turned to look outside her own window, chin resting in her hand. 

“Oh, who’s sulking now, Miranda? I thought you said it was rather unbecoming, did you not?” The assistant taunted. 

The editor’s head snapped back and arctic-turned-ocean eyes threatened vehemently as she snarled. “It would do you well to remember that I’m still your boss, Andréa.” 

“Or what, Miranda?” The brunette snapped. “You’ll fire me? Blacklist me? Burry me six foot under in your backyard? Go ahead and do all of that if it will please you. Or you can just tell me what I want to know?” 

“Or what?” The editor snapped back. “You’ll run off again when I don’t do something you want?” 

Then it clicked for the younger woman as every puzzle piece fell into place. Her hazel eyes widened in disbelief. “That?!” She shook her head. “You’re still pissed about that?!” 

“I would tread very carefully if I were you, Andréa.” The older woman snarled menacingly. 

The brunette frustratingly ran her hand through her hair. “You can’t seriously still be holding a grudge against me because I left you in Paris, can you? Miranda, it’s been three months!” 

“And you can’t seriously have me believe that you admire me after you’ve pulled such a cowardly stunt, can you?” 

“Miranda, c’mon! I’ve apologized, haven’t I? I’ve broken my back for you since then, haven’t I? Why are you still mad about that? Why do you even care that I’ve left you in a moment of bad judgment?” 

“I do not.” The editor snapped. “Don’t flatter yourself, Andréa.” 

“Oh, bite me, Miranda.” Andy snapped back. “You can deny it all you want. It’s obvious that you do. Why else have you treated me like shit since then? Care to explain that? I thought people don’t affect you, Miranda. But clearly, I do. So, why? Why do you treat me so differently than anybody else? Even if it is you just being an extra stuck-up rudimental bitch?” 

The moment those last words left the brunette’s lips, she knew she had just made a disastrous terrible mistake. Her eyes widened in shock as she slapped a hand over her mouth. 

“Miranda, I-” 

But the brunette wasn’t given a moment to apologize since they seemed to have arrived back at Runway as the silver-haired woman threw open her car door, exited the car in less than a second, and stormed off towards the Elias-Clark building, her heels clacking thunderously loud on the pavement. 

“Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.” The brunette groaned and held her head in both hands, shaking it at herself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! If she didn’t hate you before, then she certainly hates you now, Andy. God! I’m so stupid. Why couldn’t I’ve just kept my babbling mouth shut?!” 

As the young woman walked her own path towards the Runway offices, at a much slower pace than the editor had done, she continued to deride herself, not caring that people were looking at her as if she were someone who’d escaped the asylum. 

“Oh, fuck. She’s definitely going to kill me. Stab me full of holes with all the darn heels she’s got. She’s going to skin and fillet me alive, sent Patricia to shred me to pieces. Fuck, firing and blacklisting me would even be more merciful than what she’s going to do to me.” 

“What am I going to do? Getting down on my knees and beg for forgiveness isn’t going to cut it.” 

“God, she’s going to be so fucking pissed! She’s going to fucking terrorize me until I’m dead!” 

“Fuck.” 

“Good job, Andy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button!
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit of a struggle.
> 
> I've been trying to convey the emotions just right without it sounding too much of a mess I guess?
> 
> Please, let me know what you think.
> 
> If I've been clear enough in expressing everything or if you had some difficulty figuring out/understanding what the two main characters are feeling through this chapter.

“Oh, Doug. It was horrible! I was horrible! She’s been so fucking horrible!” The brunette whined when she opened the door to let her best friend in. 

“Woh, Jesus, Andy. Let a guy enter, sit down and have a beer first before you rain all your drama on me, ok?” Doug said while holding up his hands in defense. 

Andy grumbled under her breath as she led the way into her apartment. She flung open her fridge, snatched up two beer bottles, smacked the door closed making its contents rattle and jangle, tramped towards Doug who was sitting on her couch, and nearly thrust the bottle in his face. 

“Happy now?” She muttered, crashing down on the couch next to him, opened up her own bottle, and took a hefty swing from it. 

“Very.” Doug took his own hefty swing, knowing he was going to need it if his friend’s apocalyptic mood was anything to go by. “So, what’s got your knickers all twisted up? Well, Miranda obviously, but what’s up?” 

The brunette groaned and rubbed her hand over her face. “She’s trying to kill me, Doug. For real this time! If I thought things were bad before, then I couldn’t have been more wrong in my entire life! I swear! She’s fucking terrorizing me. She’s terrorizing everyone because of me. So now, everyone is terrorizing me, because of her, because of me! But she’s next level, Doug. She’s the fucking undefeatable end-boss. And that’s like the biggest understatement ever! It’s the apocalypse I’m telling you. I’m serious, I’m not going to come out of this alive. It’s fucking hopeless now. She’s going to hate me forever. She’s going to hate me until her last breath, or mine, with the way things are going, she’ll have me buried in her backyard at the end of next week. Because I won’t survive this bloodshed for longer than that. For real, she’s butchering me, slaughtering me, mutilating me. She’s ravaging and mangling me, and she won’t stop until I’m exterminated, obliterated, decimated until I’m fucking annihilated!” She finished her crazed ranting by gulping down nearly half of her bottle. 

Doug snorted out a laugh. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It can’t be that bad, can it?” 

Andy looked him deadly serious in the eye. “I called her an extra stuck-up rudimental bitch.” 

Choking on his drink, Doug coughed heavily as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Exactly.” The brunette muttered as she patted him on his back. 

“God, Andy!” He squeaked in a very unmanly manner. “What the hell did you do that for?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” 

“Of course not!” The brunette retorted. “It just came out! I don’t know what came over me. I was just too frustrated, y’know? I have been so frustrated for so damn long! It just sort of became too much all of a sudden. My temper got the better of me. And you know how I get when I’m tipped over. My stupid mouth takes over and I say stupid stuff before thinking. And God, I’ve said some stupid stuff, Doug. It’s a miracle she hadn’t pushed me out of the car when I did. I seriously can’t believe why she hasn’t fired me yet. Well, no. Now that I think about it. That would’ve definitely been the most merciful action she could’ve taken. She’s going to want to eat me up first until there’s almost nothing left of me, and then she’ll spit me out.” 

Shaking his head, he said. “Ok, ok. Let’s backtrack a little so I can follow. What made you say that to her?” 

Andy let out a heavy sigh, sat back against the backrest with her shoulders slumped, and took another sip from her bottle. “We were having a discussion of sorts. It basically came down to the fact that she’s still angry with me for abandoning her in Paris. So, she didn’t believe me when I told her that I admire her. And I just became angry, y’know?” 

The brunette shook her head in agony and frowned.” I mean, for months, day after day, I put up with her cruel crap. How she insulted the life out of me on a daily basis. Made my life a living hell to work for her. Seriously, you should’ve heard some of the things she’d said to me, Doug. You wouldn’t believe how vicious she can be and I just took it, took it all. Accepted it so she could let it out of her system. I'm just her fucking punching bag and not once have I complained about it. When in reality, it hurts me more than anything else has done in my life. I realize now that she's throwing jab after jab, not to my gut, but straight to my heart. She's wounding me from head to toe and I had to live with her hating me for months. And I know now that it's been breaking me, Doug. I tried not to let it get to me. But little by little, she's been breaking me. But now, now that I’ve realized that I’m-, that I’m in love with her. I realize how much it's really been hurting me, especially now. And still, I never said anything about it, never fucking complained once about it. And it just became too much. I guess, y’know, I don’t really know why I couldn’t stop myself, but I guess I just wanted her to feel some of my pain too. For her to feel just a little bit of what she’s been putting me through. For her to understand that it does hurt, y’know?” 

She took another hefty swing from her bottle and let out a heavy breath. “But still, after all the hard work I’ve done up until now, always going that extra damn mile, breaking my back, going above and beyond. After everything I’ve done for her to help her, to make her life easier, to fucking please her, and to gain back her trust. All of that while she was being so fucking cruel to me. The fact that she simply couldn’t believe that I actually admire her means that she hasn’t appreciated any of my efforts and didn’t care about all the hurt I’ve been carrying around at all and it just snapped something inside of me, Doug. I became so frustrated. I just couldn’t accept that she still thinks so low of me that she couldn’t believe that I think anything big of her. When the truth is that I think the world of her!” 

Andy let out in a pained groan as she ran her hand through her hair. “And the fact that she’s still angry with me, after all this damn time. I mean, come on! That’s just absurd, isn’t it? How can she possibly think that I’m still that same ignorant, naïve girl in Paris?” 

The brunette stood up and started to pace back and forth in front of the couch. “Haven’t I shown her that I admire her? Haven’t I shown her that she can rely on me? Haven’t I shown her that I care? Haven’t I shown her that she can trust me? Haven’t I shown her that I’d fucking do anything and everything for her?! I mean, how blind can she be? What more can I do to make her see? Seriously, haven’t I shown her enough?!” 

The brunette breathed heavily after the venting she’d just done, fighting hard against the tears she didn’t want to let fall. She still felt too angry to accept any tears of sorrow. 

A heavy silence enveloped the pair for several long moments with Andy trying to calm her raging thoughts and hurting feelings while Doug let everything sink in and pondered about all his friend had just said. 

He knew he needed to approach this with care. It was obvious that his friend was struggling and who could blame her? He had never seen her like this before. Be so consumed over someone that it was eating away at her. It was very clear to him that the editor hadn’t only captured Andy’s heart or mind, the silver-haired woman had captured her soul and the distance between the two women was wearing heavily on the brunette's shoulders. But she’d just had to go and fall in love with Miranda Priestly, out of everyone on this entire planet, she’d just had to choose the most difficult person she’d ever met. It certainly didn’t make any sense to Doug how she could’ve fallen for a person who’s been nothing but cruel and vindictive towards her. But it wasn’t his place to question such things. He just knew he needed to try and do whatever he can to help his friend. 

“Andy, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you some things first.” Doug said apprehensively. 

The brunette looked at him warily but nodded. “Ok?” 

He let out a worried sigh. “Do you honestly think that there’s even the slightest possibility that she might ever care for you, y’know, on a deeper level?” 

Andy frowned. “What? Why’s that relevant?” 

“Because babe. You want to be with her, right? Isn’t that what all of this is about? You wanting something more from her?” 

The brunette looked up at the ceiling. “I-, I don’t really know.” She shook her head at herself and looked down at her feet. “No, that’s not true. I do. I do want her. I know how crazy that sounds. I’m probably reaching for the stars here. I know it doesn’t make any sense. But I can’t deny the fact that I’m in love with her. I can’t deny that I want the impossible.” 

Doug leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “Do you really think it’s impossible? Do you really think that there’s not even the slightest chance that she might be capable of returning your feelings?” 

Andy narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you asking me this, Doug?” 

He sighed while he shook his head. “Because if you’re certain that there’s absolutely no chance for the two of you to be together in the way that you want it to. Then, I’m sorry for saying this Andy, but you’ll have to let her go. You need to walk away from her.” 

“What?!” The brunette snapped. “Why do I want to do that?” 

“C’mon, Andy. Because this isn’t healthy. I’m afraid that this will tear you up. If there’s no chance in hell for the two of you, then you can’t just keep obsessing over her. It will drive you nuts. She’ll break your heart. Can you honestly say that it won’t break you to be so close to her every single day, and feel the way you do when a new Mr. Priestly will eventually show up? Will you be able to handle that? And what about when your tenure will be over? You have a year left, right? You’ll have to move on then. You’ll have no choice but to leave her behind. But by then, whatever you’re feeling now, will be even worse. You’ll have been in love with her for a year. Can you honestly say that it won’t hurt you more to leave her then, instead of leaving her now?” 

Andy turned her back on him, her head hanging low as her tears finally got the better of her. She cried in silence, just letting the tears she’s been holding fall down her cheeks, needing a moment to get over the hurt his words had caused her. It was becoming a little too much for her to bear because she knew that he was right. After several minutes, she wiped the tears away, turned around, and moved to sit next to him again. 

The brunette let out a heavy breath. “I don’t know if she’ll ever see me the way I want her to.” She leaned back and rested the back of her head against the couch, looking up at the ceiling again. “I just-, I need to... I have to have hope, Doug. I have to live on it.”

She let out a humorless wryly chuckle. “That’s something I learned from her. To live on hope. Because that’s all I can do, Doug. I have no choice. Because I-, I can’t do that again. I won’t be able to live with myself if I did. I can’t-, I won’t leave her again. Not like that. The guilt would eat me up inside. I can’t hurt her like that again. Because that’s what I did. I had hurt her. Apparently, it still hurts her. I don’t know why it does, but that means she cares, right? In some way or another, she had cared about me leaving her. It had affected her in some way. I had hurt her.” 

Andy looked down at her hands on her lap and shook her head. “So, no. That’s something I cannot do. Even if she’ll never love me as I do. The fact that she somehow cares about me at all, how minuscule that feeling may be, will have to be enough for me. I’ll take all that she’s willing to give me. Even if by some miracle, all she wants is to be friends or something like that. That’ll just have to be enough for me. Because I can’t let her go." 

Andy let out another pained sigh and closed her eyes. "And if she no longer wants me in her life. Then it will be up to her to leave me. In some way, it will be like the universe would balance us out, right?" 

She opened her eyes again to look back up at the ceiling. "I left her once and the only way I’ll let something separate us again, is if it will be her choice. And I’m sure, if or when that time comes, it will break me. But I’ll understand it. I’ll understand that she can’t love me. You can’t force someone to love you. So, if Miranda chooses to push me away for good, it will be ok. I’ll just have to carry her with me in my heart forever. I’ll probably never get truly over her. But I’ll be guilt-free. And she’ll live on happily without me. That’s all that matters, really. So, I can’t leave. I don’t want to have to carry that guilt with me for the rest of my life. That’s why I’ll just have to endure this next year, I guess. That’s all I can do, really.” 

Doug looked over at his friend, the sadness he felt for her was clear in his eyes. “Damn, Andy. You’re really pulling at my heartstrings here.” 

The brunette let out a humorless chuckle as she wiped away a lone tear running down her cheek. 

Doug nodded sternly as if saying he'd just made up his mind. “Alright then, Andy. You had asked me, several minutes ago, if you haven’t shown her enough, y’know, shown her in several ways that she means something to you? But that she can’t see all that you’ve done for her?” 

Andy nodded, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Well, maybe, in Miranda’s case, it’s not only that actions speak louder than words. Maybe she needs the words too. Needs verbal confirmation. You’ve broken her trust, right? And you’re not sure if you were able to win it back yet?” 

The brunette shook her head. “No, the fact that she hasn’t forgiven me for Paris yet suggests that she still doesn’t trust me. Even if I had been winning it back bit by bit, I’m pretty sure I’ve just ruined it all over again by saying what I had said to her earlier this week.” 

Doug rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m not saying this to spite you, Andy. But I think you’ve been a little too absorbed in your own feelings till now. 

Andy frowned at him. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you have obviously been obsessing over her and trying to figure out why she acts the way she does towards you. But have you really, and I do mean really, tried to put yourself in her shoes? Well, heels in Miranda’s case.” 

The brunette looked at him confused. “I don’t really get what you’re asking of me. Of course, I’ve been trying to figure out what she’s been thinking but-” 

“No.” Doug interrupted her, shaking his head. “That’s exactly it. You’ve been trying to figure out what she’s been _thinking_. What you really need to understand is what she’s _feeling_.” 

“Ok?” Andy prompted, still feeling very much confused. 

Doug sighed. “Miranda’s a difficult woman, right?” 

The brunette chuckled lightly. “That’s definitely an understatement.” 

“But why do you think that is?” 

Andy thought about it for a moment. “Well, she has an incredibly demanding life because of Runway. It’s not easy to be on top. Especially if you include the press in all that. I mean, if she were a man, no one would even think to give her any of the monikers that they’ve given her. So, it’s because of how the world views her, that she sort of had to take on that business persona. Instead of letting the cruel words of the press tear her down, she used them to her own advantage. She wields all those names they call her as her weapons. They’ve made her stronger. Reinforce her in the business world. She uses them to stay ahead in the game. But I think that she got too carried away with them. Instead of only using them to strengthen her, I think they might’ve overtaken her in a way. She can no longer come out as just herself in public. Because she’s so used to acting, well, being that way.” 

“And why do you think she’s been taken over by those ‘weapons’?” Doug prompted further. 

The brunette raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Didn’t I just explain that? So, she can stay ahead in the game.” 

He nodded once. “And because she’s playing a game, means she has opponents, right? People who are trying to bring her down?” 

“Yeah? I guess.” 

“So, she uses those weapons to not only strengthen her, but she needs them to protect herself as well, right?” 

The brunette groaned. “C’mon, Doug. Enough of this twenty questions game. Just tell me what you’re thinking.” 

Doug sighed heavily. “Alright. You were on the right track though. Anyway. I think you’re right about the fact that she’s been taken over by all those monikers. But not just to protect herself in the business world. If it wasn’t that way, then she could just simply be herself outside of work without carrying all these weapons around.” 

He took a sip from his beer, emptying the bottle. “In case you’ve failed to notice. Miranda’s almost twice your age. She has two children to think about and has had two divorces. She has a lot more life experience than you. And the fact that she has twice as much life experience as you, plus the fact that she’s led a difficult life because of who she had to become because of Runway. Means that she’s been hurt a great deal more than you can probably imagine. It’s due to the position she holds in this world, which means she can’t simply trust people. There are always people around every corner she passes that want something from her, or want to take away from her. The fact that she’s gone through two divorces means she’s been hurt by people, and not only by her ex-husbands. The fact that it didn’t seem like she a choice but to have to become this persona to protect herself, would suggest that she has trusted before, but has been hurt because she has trusted.” 

He paused a couple of seconds, giving his friend a moment to let that sink in. When the brunette nodded at him, he continued. “And now, she no longer wishes to be hurt or to be taken advantage of. So, she’s put all these walls around her. Because she might think that it’s just easier this way. She pushes everyone away because she’s not willing to trust again, she doesn’t want to be hurt again. And this, my friend, is where you come into the equation.” 

Andy nodded, let out a heavy pained sigh, and laid down on the couch with her feet resting on Doug’s lap. “Yeah, I get it now.” She groaned and rested her arm over her eyes. “God, how could I have been so blind? You’re right. Miranda doesn’t trust people. And yet, for some reason, she had decided to trust me, before Paris. And I’ve broken it. But I didn’t realize just how difficult it must’ve been for her to trust someone again. And when she had finally let herself trust someone again, that person had taken it for granted. I’ve taken it for granted. Probably proved to her once again that she needs her armor firmly in place. That’s why she’s been so hard on me. She had let me in once, and that must’ve been, I don’t know, scary in a way, I guess, for her to do that. But I fucked it up without even realizing how much. Of course, she wasn’t willing to let me back in after that. She probably thinks that since I did it once, I’m capable of doing it again. So, why would she take another chance on me again?” 

She dropped her arm, resting her hand on top of her chest, and frowned up at the ceiling. “And here I was, thinking that if I just worked really hard for her, that that would’ve been enough. God, that sounds so fucking dumb all of a sudden. The only thing I’ve literally done is show her that I’m a hard worker, while just simply taking all her insults. I didn’t realize I should’ve listened to the meaning behind all those insults. They conveyed her hurt. Hurt that I had caused her, so she was simply throwing it back at me. My God, it suddenly makes so much sense. I hit her first, right where it must’ve hurt her the most, and now she’s simply punching me back, to defend herself. But to her, it must’ve looked like she wasn’t even making a dent in me. Since I wasn’t complaining, always showing up with that stupid grin of mine, always coming back for more punches that didn’t seem to faze me. While I had taken her down with just one uppercut.” 

She groaned and took her head in both hands, palms resting on her temples. “And now, I’ve thrown her another uppercut, by calling her a bitch, while she was still hurting because of me, and I’ve probably ended the match with that. Probably blew my only chance at redemption right out the window. God, how could I have been so stupid?! So fucking blind?!” 

Within the blink of an eye, the brunette sat up and glared at her friend. “Why couldn’t you have told me all of this before?” 

Doug’s eyes widened as he held his arms in front of his face as if trying to protect himself. “Hey! Don’t blame me for your stupidity! You caused this mess all on your own, thank you very much. In case you’ve failed to notice, I’m trying to help you out here.” 

Andy groaned. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. And I am grateful, Doug. It’s just-, I don’t know what to do. How can I fix this, make this right? She wasn’t even giving me the benefit of the doubt after I abandoned her in Paris. She’ll definitely never take a chance on me now. It’s hopeless. I’m hopeless. Fuck, Doug. I don’t think there’s anything I can do to make her see how sorry I am for all of this.” 

Doug shook his head at her again for the umpteenth time that evening. “Andy, I told you before. It is not only your actions that might give you a chance to fix this, you’re going to have to use your words too. And you’re good with them, aren’t you? You are a writer after all. You live and breathe words. You’re great at expressing yourself when you write them down. So, even if she won’t listen to you, you can at least try to write to her. At least you’ll be doing something real about it. Not just work your ass off, but really laying it all out there. So, don’t just do, Andy. You need to say it as well.” 

“But what can I say, Doug? Apologizing, even if I do it a thousand times over, isn’t going to cut it. I’ve done it before and it didn’t work, it certainly won’t work now. And I can’t just come out and tell her that I care for her, that I love her. There’s no way in hell that she’ll believe me. She couldn’t even believe that I admire her, for God’s sake.” 

Doug shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, can’t really help you out with that one. That has to be up to you to figure out, babe. As I said, you’re good with words. So, use them, wield them. If you really want to fix this, I’m afraid that’s the only choice you’ve got.” 

The brunette sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. God, why do you have to so right all the time? It’s not fair, y’know. Seriously, you should be a shrink or something, instead of a boring accountant.” 

Doug chuckled. “Nah, this is about as much drama as I can handle.” 

“Gee, thanks.” Andy smiled, for the first time since her fight with Miranda. “I mean it, Doug. Thank you. For always being there to rely on, and for always knowing the right thing to say. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“Oh, you’d be a fucking mess without me.” He laughed. “But you’re welcome, babe. Anything for my bestie.” 

“Anything?” The brunette grinned, a playful gleam in her eyes. 

“Uhm.” Doug looked at her warily. “Yeah?” 

“Then go get me a couple more beers from the fridge. I plan on getting smashed tonight while we watch Friends reruns.” Andy laughed. 

“Your wish is my command, your highness. Only because it is my wish as well.” He winked and jumped up from the couch, determined to get them both, but especially his best friend, completely and utterly drunk tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I'd be grateful if you would point them out if you were to stumble upon them.
> 
> I'd appreciate it immensely if you'd leave a comment, subscribe, and hit that KUDOS-button! 
> 
> Comments, comments, comments, I sooo love to read your comments! Let me know what you think so far!
> 
> This chapter was a bit of a struggle.
> 
> I've been trying to convey the emotions just right without it sounding too much of a mess I guess?
> 
> Please, let me know what you think.
> 
> If I've been clear enough in expressing everything or if you had some difficulty figuring out/understanding what the two main characters are feeling through this chapter.


End file.
